I Think It Has Something To Do With Oatmeal

Handsome Furs at the Belly Up Tavern, 1/15/12

2012-02-01T15:27:00.000-08:00

I am not, by nature, a dancer. That must come as a great shock to anyone who actually knows me, I'm sure, but it's true. But every so often I stumble upon a band that brings it out of me, and Handsome Furs is the latest version of that band. Of course, I got extremely sick and lacked the energy to do much more than shake back and forth in place like someone having a fit while standing in wet cement, thereby undercutting the entire premise of this review, but that's hardly the band's fault.

Consisting of Dan Boeckner (late of Wolf Parade) and his wife Alexei Perry, Handsome Furs sound like the soundtrack to that 80's movie that you always wanted to be your life. Synth-happy and dance-crazy, most of their songs are pure distilled joy, and the whole thing is held together by Boeckner's stadium filling voice. On this night, though, he only had to reach back to the bar at the Belly Up, and he was more than equal to the task.

Focusing heavily on last year's fantastic Sound Kapital, the happy couple bounced and kicked and swayed through a too-short eleven song set. Normally drum machines leave me cold in a live setting, being the strict traditionalist I am, but they sounded great here, with Perry's keyboards dancing all over them.

Perhaps even more than the infectiousness of the music, the couple's chemistry really made the performance feel like a celebration: of them; of us; of life. And before you point out how corny that sounds, I'll preemptively agree, but that doesn't make it less true. Boeckner and Perry make rocking out the most romantic thing in the world, and what's not to love about that?

Set List: When I Get Back / Damage / All We Want, Baby, is Everything / Memories of the Future / Bury Me Standing / What About Us / Repatriated / (Older song I didn't know) / Serve the People

Encore: Legal Tender / (Another older song I didn't recognize)

Photo by Monti Smith, courtesy of Indie Rock Reviews

Best Music of 2009: Perspective in Retrospect

2012-01-19T00:04:00.000-08:00

Just when you thought you'd had enough of my endless lists...surprise! I know 2009 has been over for, like, a whole week now(*), but why the hell would you do a best of the year while the year in question was still going on, anyway? And when I made 2009 ineligible on the "Best of the 2000's" list, it really made this one a foregone conclusion. That, and I wanted an excuse to try my hand at making a collage. (Verdict: I can do better.) Here we go, and I promise to be much less wordy this time.

(*) Or a week and two years, whatever. I began this on January 7 of 2010, abandoned it (and the blog in general) when things got a bit wonky for me, and honestly forgot it even existed until a couple months ago. It was roughly one third done at the time, and I've tried to complete it the way I would have then, but at the end I'll have some things to say about how two years have affected it. Also, I completely lied about the "less wordy" thing. Honestly, I am encouraging mass skimming of this article, as it's way too long and indulgent. So, do what you always do, but enjoy it less (more?) because of my consent.

First, an honorable mention/explanation of their absence for Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavillion and Grizzly Bear's Veckatimest. In the case of Animal Collective, I just haven't had it very long (maybe a month). I know, I know, Pitchfork (and just about everyone else) proclaimed their undying love way back in January, but previous albums hadn't done it for me, so I passed. Then, I found it for cheap and discovered it was actually pretty good. "My Girls" and "Summertime Clothes" are both on the list of best songs I've heard this year, and the whole album has a sunny, infectious feel to it that I rather enjoy. On the other hand, in the eight or nine times I've listened to it all the way through, it all seems to blend together in such a way that I forget which songs were which, and that's a problem. Maybe it would have ranked if I had it the whole year, maybe not, but I have both enthusiasm and reservations so far.

Veckatimest definitely does not suffer from the problem of sounding too similar, and it also has two songs that feel like potential classics, "Two Weeks" and "While You Wait for the Others." In fact, I think I like a little more than half of it. My major concern with it is basically the same as the one I mentioned in regard to TV on the Radio's Return to Cookie Mountain in my best of the decade list: admiration over enjoyment. And one amazing song that makes the others more frustrating for their lack of accessibility. The odd song structures and arrangements cut both ways; when they work, it can be genius, but when they don't it just sounds like you're trying too hard. Oh, and if you have a song on your album that I actively hate (I'm looking at you here, "Dory"), you are hurting your chances of being on my prestigious list. I'm sure once I finally see them live I'll be reborn, but for now I'll leave my Grizzly Bear Kool-Aid on the kitchen counter and listen to something that I don't feel like skipping through.

Anyway, on to my twelve favorite albums of last year:

12. Modest Mouse, No One's First and You're Next

Yes, it's only an EP, and yes, it's made up of eight tracks that were released as singles and then later compiled for this, but it's my favorite Modest Mouse since The Moon and Antarctica. I really don't think there's a weak song, with "Satellite Skin," "Guilty Cocker Spaniels," "The Whale Song" and "History Sticks to Your Feet" being especially awesome, and that's a huge change from how I've felt about most previous Modest Mouse efforts. Typically, there are as many as sixteen tracks per album, and that results in a lot of filler. Maybe what this really says is that Isaac Brock and company are better off just writing a couple songs at a time and then collecting them all once they've done enough. In any case, this certainly deserved to be mentioned, even at the back.

11. Heartless Bastards, The Mountain
If there's one thing you learned about me from my decade list, it's that I love anything that does classic rock well. Blues-rock works too, and that's where this bunch fits in. Lead singer Erika Wennerstrom has a very distinctive drawl, and it can take some getting used to, but I love it. This album's biggest problem is how great the first song is, making it hard to get past. "The Mountain" starts with just a distorted strum for a few measures, before kicking in with a haunting slide guitar that floats behind Wennerstrom's voice during the verses before essentially acting as vocalist for the choruses. It's a beautiful yet rocking song, and the first time I heard the album I listened to it three times before getting to track 2. There's plenty more to love though, with ragers like "Early in the Morning" and songs that tweak the format a little, like "Wide Awake." Definitely my favorite surprise of the year.

10. Wilco, Wilco (the album)

When this came out, I was really excited, raving about it perhaps more than it deserves. As the year has gone on, I've become less enamored of it, but not so much that it doesn't deserve a spot. By my reckoning, a somewhat disappointing album by Wilco is still better than most other things. I discussed a lot of the criticism in the previous review, but I think my biggest problem with it is how top heavy it is. Earlier, I defended the slower songs in the back half, but their shine has worn off considerably over time. However, the good stuff is still pretty great, especially tracks 3-6. Yes, you could hear the Feist-guesting "You and I" any time you walked into a Starbucks, but it's still a lovely song, and "One Wing," "Bull Black Nova" and especially "You Never Know" are some of the band's finest rockers from any album. Maybe more time will dampen my feelings for it even further, but I still like it enough to put it here.

9. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, It's Blitz!

First thing's first: "Zero" is a classically great song, a standout of the last ten years, and certainly my favorite YYY single. In fact, it's pretty much enough to earn the album top 10 status all by itself...which is fortunate, because most of the rest is lacking. When the band's sound evolved for Show Your Bones, I loved it. But this latest change to a more electronic disco sound just doesn't work that well for me. After "Zero" opens things in rousing fashion, "Heads Will Roll" keeps the rave going and "Soft Shock" has some really cool synthesizers. The rest, however, is mostly forgettable. "Dull Life" most resembles the sound of their previous records, so it's no surprise that it ranks as my second favorite on the album, but I'm not convinced it's really all that good. "Runaway" and "Hysteric" sound like they're trying too hard to recreate the success of songs such as "Maps" and "Cheated Hearts." This may be a weird complaint after I've mentioned that the album doesn't sound enough like the old stuff, but there's a difference between playing a certain style and outright aping yourself. Because it's a Yeah Yeah Yeahs album it's not bad, and there is one classic song here, but I hope their next evolution works out better.

8. Super Furry Animals, Dark Days/Light Years
Wackiness is just as much a staple of their sound as catchy choruses, so things that would raise an eyebrow if coming from other bands--say, leading off an album with a song called "Crazy Naked Girls," for instance--shouldn't merit much attention when Gruff Rhys and company do it. But, c'mon! It helps that it's a totally gonzo, awesome song, with Rhys repeating the title over and over while the music evolves from what sounds like a house party into shred-tastic arena rock, but always with the usual Super Furry Animals tongue stuck firmly in cheek. Really, the only thing wrong with the track is that there was no accompanying video made. "Mt" continues the glam spirit of things, with keyboardist Cian Ciaran handling lead vocals, and "Moped Eyes" pairs a steady dance beat with Rhys's smooth vocals, bringing to mind his Neon Neon side project. "Inaugural Trams" is either a result of the sunniest drug trip ever or the national anthem for Toontown. Franz Ferdinand's Nick McArthy's guest rap in German is probably a clue as to which, but I haven't figured it out. In the end, this is little too long, and definitely not as immediately enjoyable as past albums like Hey Venus! or Rings Around the World, but multiple listens reveal something that stands with their best. Plus, any album that leads to a press release like this is invariably awesome.

7. Obits, I Blame You

Rising from the ashes of a beloved band can be really hard. There is a lot of baggage that can't be avoided, expectations that demand to be met, fair or not. When Speedo decided to kill all of his bands a few years ago, it also took Hot Snakes/Drive Like Jehu lead singer and co-mastermind Rick Froberg away from us. Speedo came back first, but Froberg came back better, releasing this surf-punk-noise gem. The comparisons to Hot Snakes are unavoidable, like I said, but his songwriting style and voice are really the only common factors. Even there, Froberg reveals he can croon a little, scaling back the screaming for a more melodic sound, especially on songs like "Light Sweet Crude" and album closer "Back and Forth." Elsewhere, he still brings the signature yelp; "Widow of My Dreams" sets the tone with a driving beat and jangling surf guitars for a minute or so before Froberg joins the fray: "Leave us alone, man. Leave us in peace!" Second guitarist Sohrab Habibion ably takes the role that Speedo assumed in Hot Snakes, even handling lead vocals on "Run," and I suspect his influence may have a lot to do with the surfy, tinny, low-fi sound. The whole thing is produced to sound like 60's garage rock, and it gives it immediacy and edge. It's a hell of a debut, and even manages to satisfy this rabid Hot Snakes fan without ever sounding like a rehash. Speedo, it's your move.

6. Franz Ferdinand, Tonight

Franz Ferdinand stormed into the collective hipster consciousness with the irrepressible "Take Me Out" in 2004, but their second album seemed not to garner near as much attention even though it essentially improved upon the recipe from their debut. On Tonight Franz Ferdinand seem to have taken that lesson to heart, going with a synth heavy approach. The result is maybe their danciest, and certainly their weirdest album yet. Weird ain't all bad, though. Opening track/lead single "Ulysses" dares you to not sing along with frontman Alex Kapranos as those aforementioned synths lead into "La, la la la la, Ulysses!" The first time I heard the song, I started out smirking at the obviousness; by the fifth I was shouting happily along. Other highlights include the keyboard-happy, seriously 80's-leaning "Twilight Omens," the You Could Have It So Much Better throwback "Bite Hard," and the bouncy "What She Came For," a song that combines three minutes of enjoyably standard Franz fare--dancey beat, singalong choruses, twitchy guitar--with fifty seconds of explosive, blistering punk. And just in case you hadn't noticed they were messing around with the status quo, the back end offers up "Lucid Dreams," featuring a slow descent from guitar rock into straight techno. Not all of the tweaks work, but overall they maintain the charm of their first two releases. At this point, I'm a believer.

5. Built to Spill, There is No Enemy
I didn't get around to listening to this until after I'd seen them at Outside Lands, but I wasn't worried--Doug Martsch and company are nothing if not reliably consistent. That isn't to say that Built to Spill keep putting out the same record, just that they've yet to release a bad one. There is No Enemy finds them in a mellower, more reflective mood than You in Reverse, but it retains all the best aspects of the band's sound. In particular, the epic lead guitar is still all over every song, in particular during the mid-album stretch of "Life's a Dream," "Oh Yeah" and the angriest, fastest song here (and, not surprisingly, probably my favorite), "Pat." Clocking in at a brisk 2:39, it's the song that most brings to mind Martsch's manic flailing and head-bobbing he always does in concert, and the one most likely to get you pulled over. There are additional touches this time around--horns on a couple tracks, strings on another--but they never feel intrusive or gratuitous, instead adding to the overall feel. And Martsch's lyrics, which he claims aren't really about anything specific, again manage to find the perfect rhythm for the songs while also feeling profound, his protestations be damned. In the end, the message seems to be one of hopeful melancholy, of accepting the things you can't control in an effort to be happy. In that spirit, I gladly accept Built to Spill's current trajectory. If only we could all age so gracefully.

4. The Dead Weather, Horehound
Raise your hand if, when The White Stripes first broke out and you would listen to "Fell in Love with a Girl" and "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" constantly, you ever imagined a time when they would be Jack White's third best band. I know I didn't. And yet, less than a decade later, that's where we find ourselves. My love for The Raconteurs has been well-documented, and this year White collaborated with another interesting talent in Allison Mosshart, lead singer for The Kills, while also bringing along bassist Jack Lawrence from The Raconteurs, and guitarist Dean Fertita. The result was the grittiest thing he's ever done. The early White Stripes recordings may have been lo-fi, but they--

CUT!!!

(cue sounds of brakes screeching, records stopping, whistles blowing, babies crying and demons laughing, all at once)

_____________________________

All right, that just went on, didn't it? Writing from your own perspective from two years ago is harder than I thought, so enough of that. It also makes a somewhat natural stopping point, though, since my top three albums from that year are the same now as they were then. To wit:

3. Mastodon, Crack the Skye

2. Them Crooked Vultures, Them Crooked Vultures

1. Dinosaur Jr, Farm

Though they all undoubtedly deserve the level of attention the others received above, I'll just say that Crack the Skye is Mastodon's best album to date, dipping just enough into more traditional songwriting to make songs hookier while maintaining the band's typical weirdness (a concept album about Rasputin, anyone?) and musical ingenuity; Them Crooked Vultures has a tendency to sound too much like a Queens of the Stone Age album, and not just because Josh Homme is the main guy behind both bands, but when the three principal musicians are Homme, Dave Grohl and John Paul Jones, that's a minor complaint--at times it actually sounds like Led Zeppelin and QOTSA had a baby; and Farm concretely reestablishes Dinosaur Jr as a serious force, showing up all the 90's nostalgia acts in the process in a way that only J Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph could.

Anyway, the real reason I decided to thaw this sucker out was my fascination with just how different my feelings were about the albums on the list, and even the ones I decided not to include. I never warmed to Animal Collective beyond what I said at the top, but Grizzly Bear grew on me rather unexpectedly. The bottom part of the list has fallen off almost completely; I almost cringe in guilt to see those Modest Mouse and Heartless Bastards records included when I haven't listened to them in ages. In fact, let's go to the early 2012 version of the list:

1. Farm

2. Them Crooked Vultures

3. Crack the Skye

Though somewhat comforting that I essentially predicted the three that would have the most lasting impact on me, it's also boring for the sake of this article, so onward!

4. There is No Enemy

5. I Blame You

6. Wolfmother, Cosmic Egg

Ahh, change is good. Built to Spill and Obits both move up, bumping Franz Ferdinand and The Dead Weather to parts unknown, and we have a newcomer in Wolfmother. Apparently the end of 2008 was particularly slutty for Led Zeppelin, because Black Sabbath knocked her up too, producing this criminally overlooked follow-up to Wolfmother's crazy hyped debut. Seriously, if you like hard rock/metal, the first eight tracks are as good as almost anything the last couple years.

7. Silversun Pickups, Swoon

8. The Black Crowes, Before the Frost...

9. Brendan Benson, My Old, Familiar Friend

I knew I liked Swoon at the time, but I don't think I'd fully given myself over to it yet. The Black Crowes retired on a high point, using a live setting in The Band drummer Levon Helm's barn to creatively reinvigorate themselves. Benson, Jack White's co-lead in The Raconteurs, made a killer power pop record that I wouldn't have paid attention to even five years before; now it finds its way back into my rotation every six months or so, which is more than can be said for some of the albums it deposed.

10. Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest

11. Horehound

12. Muse, The Resistance

Well, would you look at that! Grizzly Bear made it after all. Though an impressive live show had a fair amount to do with the turnaround, repeated listens had me appreciating the beauty and intricacy of the record. "Dory" can still fuck right off, but most of the rest is kind of awesome, if you'll allow me such eloquence. The Dead Weather are hurt in hindsight by how much better their second album was--I hardly ever pick this one up anymore--but in a weak year it was still enough to cling to the bottom rungs of this overly long list. And The Resistance started off as an album I liked to mock for its silliness and goofy grandiosity, but two years later I would compare half of it favorably to most of their catalogue. The title track and "Unnatural Selection" in particular are among my favorite all-time Muse songs.

_____________________________

Revisiting/revising/finally completing this list after all this time has brought me to a couple conclusions. The first (and far briefer) of the two is that after excluding 2009 from my best of the decade list because I needed more time with these releases to put them in the proper context, it seems counter-intuitive to have immediately tried to rank them anyway. That leads me into my second conclusion, though, which is that thinking of these lists as anything more than a snapshot of how you feel at that exact moment in time is just silly.

Now, that may seem painfully obvious to everyone else, but as someone who's always loved ranking things it took me a while to figure out. I feel so strongly about my opinions, and am so loathe to present them as anything but fact, that accepting their fluidity would have once felt like a concession. (Back when Foo Fighters debuted, I insisted that I hated "This is a Call" long after it'd won me over, all because I'd been initially underwhelmed.) Plus, the best music comes from the songs and albums you form a personal bond with, and the idea of that bond not sustaining is almost as sad as losing touch with a good friend.

But the reality, of course, is that your relationship with music is constantly subject to change. For years I've had a top tier of favorite bands, my own little Mt. Rushmore that was set, er, in stone (Just like the real thing! This metaphor is great!) no matter what came along. But most of those bands are either inactive or long past their best days, while almost every year--sorry, 2009!--I discover new bands that have records I love almost as much, or in some cases more, than some of my personal all-timers. On a more micro level, I look back at 2009 and wonder why my list looks the way it does; 2009 me would look at the updated version and scoff.

All of this brings up other thoughts about the state of music criticism in general, and how a review written after only five or ten or even forty listens in a relatively short amount of time is mostly useless, but this is long enough already. For my own purposes, I will go forward looking at lists like this one as a conversation starter and a personal time capsule that I can go back and get riled up about in the years to come. And if someone discovers something they really like on there, all the better.

In that spirit, one more list, presented without comment, except to say that 2010 was a lot stronger than 2009, and this list too is different from how it would have looked a year ago:

Top 20 of 2010

Arcade Fire, The Suburbs
Titus Andronicus, The Monitor
The Besnard Lakes, The Besnard Lakes are the Roaring Night
Surfer Blood, Astro Coast
Black Mountain, Wilderness Heart
The Futureheads, The Chaos
Ted Leo & The Pharmacists, The Brutalist Bricks
The Dead Weather, Sea of Cowards
Deerhunter, Halcyon Digest
Broken Social Scene, Forgiveness Rock Record
The Black Keys, Brothers
LCD Soundsystem, This is Happening
Grinderman, Grinderman 2
Spoon, Transference
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Beat the Devil's Tattoo
Against Me!, White Crosses
Torche, Songs for Singles
The Black Angels, Phosphene Dream
Frightened Rabbit, The Winter of Mixed Drinks
Janelle Monae, The ArchAndroid

Outside Lands 2011, Day 1: The Commute Formidable; or Anger, MGMT

2011-08-22T13:48:00.000-07:00

I may have broken my Coachella streak earlier this year due to a startlingly quick sell-out, but I have another festival streak to nourish, and this year marked my third straight at San Francisco's awesome Outside Lands. Last year I failed to review it, but two years ago I did a sort of running diary of Day 1, so I thought I'd give that another go. If no one seems to care, or if writing it just proves too big a pain, expect one large post for Days 2 & 3. But for now, let's dive right into the hills and fog of the Bay Area!

Oh, those hills. Silly us, thinking we could just wander out onto Market Street and hail a cab big enough for six people! After sending away the first one because he could only fit five at the most, we started walking in the general direction of Golden Gate Park, arrogantly assuming on a weekend like this the city would be crawling with cabs. But as taxi after taxi flew by we started to get a little concerned. I'm still not convinced that first guy didn't send out a secret signal against us, branding us with a giant "NO" in bright scarlet letters. Finally broken down, we decided on splitting up after about half an hour and were almost immediately rewarded with what looked like two consecutive taxis. Three of us piled into the first one, my extreme excitement about seeing The Joy Formidable pushing out any thoughts of chivalry. As we sped away we noticed the other half of our party being left in the dust by the second cab. So far ba-, off to a bad start.

Making matters worse, my two friends who came with me in the first cab had forgotten our other friend was holding their tickets. So we get there, call those left behind to check on them only to be informed that we were assholes (as much as I didn't like it, I understood the sentiment), and suddenly I'm the only one in the festival and feeling majorly guilty. But, at the same time, there was live music to be seen, so I left my last two friends by the box office and headed over to the Sutro Stage.

The Joy Formidable, Sutro Stage, 1:10

So, I'm an asshole. But of the bands I was most excited to see, these guys were one of the few I'd never seen. The Big Roar has been one of the better new releases of this year, bringing to mind what you would get if Absolution-era Muse had a baby with Garbage. If that sounds terrible, well, fair enough, but I dig it. Lead singer Ritzy Bryan (no, really) is an adorable little sprite with a killer voice and serious guitar skills, and for a three-piece they make an impressive amount of noise. I've developed a bad habit of thinking about how great my favorite songs on an album would sound live, with no regard for whether or not they'll actually make the set list. Naturally, that was the case here, and my hopes of hearing "The Everchanging Spectrum of a Lie" and "The Magnifying Glass" were dashed, but that didn't stop the band from putting on a great start to my weekend. Because many of their songs have extended instrumental freak-outs, they only managed six, but by the time the closing jam of "Whirring" was reaching its peak that didn't matter. Bassist Rhydian Dafydd got so pumped up that he left his instrument behind to blast us with feedback while he ran over to the drums and began slapping at the cymbals, then just kind of jumping around with his fists in the air like he didn't know what to do with himself. If you'll excuse the poor copy editor wordplay, the joy was both formidable and infectious.

Set List: A Heavy Abacus / Austere / The Greatest Light is the Greatest Shade / Cradle / I Don't Wanna See You Like This / Whirring

After their set was over my guilt came rushing back in, and I headed back over to the entrance to check on my crew. Surely by now the other three must have hailed a cab. Yeah, not so much. Since I declared Anne Frank jokes as being 'too soon' the first night we arrived in town I won't compare the experience of talking to my friends through a chain link fence to being in an internment camp...but, you know, I'm sure it was totally like that. Finally, we spotted the others, and the happy/relieved/awkward reunion took place. Having walked the whole way, they were justifiably grumpy and anxious to get a drink and sit down. So we wandered over to the main stage area and found a bench while The Original Meters played in the background. Sadly, I couldn't tell you a single thing about them, except that they sounded older. Yep, I kick ass at this!

The will to walk and experience the festival returning with every beer swig, we went over to the tiny Panhandle stage to see Tamaryn, a local shoegaze/goth act that my buddy Spencer was interested in. She certainly had a nice voice, but this set really amounted to more relaxing as the music washed over us. Friday was the easily the weakest day to my mind, so it was nice to take these opportunities to just hang out and take in the surroundings. Obviously any festival is going to be a hotbed of people-watching, but this one in particular brings out a really fascinating blend of young and old, costumed and naked, stoned and less stoned. The big thing this year seemed to be hats and sweaters that resembled animals; every day saw more and more bears and sharks wandering the grounds. So wrapped up in these observations was I that before I knew it Tamaryn had finished and it was off to check out indie buzz act Toro y Moi.

Toro y Moi, Twin Peaks Stage, 3:50

Chazwick Bundick, more commonly known by his recording moniker Toro y Moi, has been getting a ton of positive press for Underneath the Pine, but I can't get into it. I recognize that it's just not my style and won't judge it, but to these ears it's pretty boring. In fact, I'm listening to it now to set the mood while I write this, but it's making me sleepy. Hold on while I get something a little more energizing...
FUCK YEAH, METALLICA, I WILL KILL 'EM ALL!! METAL OR GTFO!!!
Ahh, much better. Still here? Excellent. So, despite what I said above, it is the type of music that has potential for a really fun live show, and, regardless of how lazy everyone looks in that picture, we definitely got some hints at that here. Using a full band gave the music impact it lacks on record, and it was fun to watch the crazy dancers in the crowd (one guy in particular who seemed to be everywhere at this festival, but more on him later). Eventually the appeal wore off, but, again, it's not my thing. For six or seven songs I was totally bopping along with everyone else. My only real complaint has more to do with the setting than the performance. This band needs to be somewhere enclosed so the beats and layers of music can envelop you. Not that it could have been helped, but it still took away.

We left a couple songs before the end to make the long trek to MGMT on the main stage, yet another band I have lukewarm feelings for but felt the need to see. It took us almost ten minutes, including a pit stop, so we missed the beginning. That's the one drawback to Outside Lands, in my mind. The scheduling is generally a lot lighter than other festivals I've been to, like Coachella or even Street Scene (RIP), so there's less rushing around and feeling like you're missing stuff. On the other hand, most of the stages are significant distances from each other, so you have to be really committed to seeing the bands you're only marginally interested in; otherwise, you just end up camped at one stage or another and spending all your money on food and drink. Hey, wait a minute!

MGMT, Lands End Stage, 4:35

Like I said, we missed the beginning, so we were approaching the stage to the dulcet tones of "Time to Pretend" as swarms of people rushed to get there to hear their favorite song ever, OMG! After that song was over they switched to material from their newer album, much to the horror of many of the people who had pushed past us only moments before. For my part, I though their first album was catchy and disposable and whatever, while Congratulations was at least interesting, like the result of listening to a whole lot of Syd Barrett-era Floyd while watching a Sid and Marty Krofft marathon on repeat, so aggressively weird and un-commercial that I give it points just for existing. Also, the songs are pretty good, and they played them really well, much better than I would have ever expected. "Electric Feel" brought back some of the fair-weather types, but if they stuck around for the whole set they were in for a nasty shock: no "Kids." Good! Leaving it out felt like it was done in the spirit that Congratulations was written. I know it made me like them more.

Set List: Flash Delirium / Time to Pretend / It's Working / Weekend Wars / I Found a Whistle / Electric Feel / Broken Arrows (England's Glory cover) / The Youth / Siberian Breaks / The Handshake / Congratulations

Next...well, not much, actually. Our grand plan to eat at this time was apparently not all that original, and the next hour is lost to history. Some of us had wanted to see Big Boi, but he never even played due to "technical issues," though we all decided he and Erykah Badu got in a spat about Andre 3000 backstage. His delay/no-show did lead to the most random moment of the weekend, as Dave Chappelle came out on stage to talk to the crowd for a few minutes, going on about never having beach balls at shows when he was a kid but not bothering to explain what was up with Big Boi. I left the Sutro Stage to go back to the main area to catch a little bit of Phish, but despite overhearing some guy tell his friend they were "by far the best band here," I was unmoved. Great musicians, but all that jamming is not my thing. And I actively loathe The Shins, so there wasn't much left to do but leave by the time 8:00 rolled around. Sure, the way to the festival was a pain, but we'd be leaving early; taxis would be fighting over us!

But no, this was not the case. Cabs wouldn't stop, and none of the companies were answering their phones. The shuttles were for people with passes only, and the regular buses weren't even going our way. So we started walking. And walking. And walking. Mostly uphill. There was very little talking among us as we slowly resigned ourselves to our fate; the three of us who had walked the whole way earlier were varying degrees of grimly determined and too tired to care. We trudged more than thirty blocks to the edge of the park, cresting the largest hill of them all, and just when we were deciding if we would go straight or hook a right, in flew Douglas Chen, Airport Shuttler of the Gods. It couldn't have been more miraculous if he had drifted down on a golden stream of light with fucking harps and shit. Why he chose our sad party to rescue I'll never know (though the reek of collective desperation probably had something to do with it), but I do know that we are forever in his debt. Douglas Chen, from those about to collapse, we salute you.

MGMT, Tamaryn and The Joy Formidable pictures by Marcello Ambriz, The Audio Perv. The less good ones by Me, This Blog.

Summer Concert Catch-Up

2011-08-20T13:02:00.000-07:00

As it seems I tend to do, I've fallen behind on my blogging again. As always, my response to any complaints (of which I have heard none, naturally): somebody please, please, please give me a writing job! Anyway, I've been to some awesome shows, and I shall now talk about them.

Titus Andronicus and Okkervil River at the Wiltern, 6/23/11

Lots of shows can be chalked up to the headliner, and then a bunch of detritus that is barely worthy of your partial attention while you spend too much on drinks, discussing your new favorite band with others who patiently wait their turn to agree with you in slightly different words. Sometimes, though, you get a double-billing that actually makes you want to show up early. It should come as no shock that my two favorite occurrences of this involved Queens of the Stone Age: first with the late, lamented Rocket from the Crypt at UCSD's Winterfest in 2003 or 2004 (thanks, Rishi!), and later at the Hollywood Bowl with Nine Inch Nails. (I can only imagine how I would have rationalized ranking both of those higher than the now-legendary Arcade Fire/LCD Soundsystem show I missed, but since I wasn't there, mine are totally better, man!)

Both of these bands came in riding the respective records that had made me a fan, but I was curious how they would translate live and if they would be a compatible pair. Titus Andronicus came out blazing, opening with the epic "A More Perfect Union," which they somehow played faster than the studio version. Lead singer/guitarist Patrick Stickles raged and rocked in all his bearded glory, but the sound people apparently didn't know he was playing the solos for at least a song or two, and some of the greatness was lost in the mix. Still, the band was tight and explosive, and when they closed with "Four Score and Seven," their best, most anthemic song, I sweated and smiled and almost lost the glasses off my face, a problem I was happy to see I wasn't too old to experience.

Okkervil River would have to reproduce the double-drummed clamor of their seriously awesome I Am Very Far record to live up to that. Did they, you ask? Well, no. In fact, the lack of impact of the songs that hit so hard in my car was a little disconcerting. Was this really the same band I saw blow up the Fonda last summer as Roky Erickson's backing band? I don't know if it was another sound issue or just fewer musicians than they had in studio, but right off the bat I was denied the ferocity I was hoping to hear. "White Shadow Waltz," a standout and suitably epic choice for opener, somehow lost its grandiosity. A couple songs later they played the best new song, "Rider," but the acoustic guitar strumming that gives it so much of its depth couldn't rise above Will Sheff's voice, which was entirely too loud in relation to the music. The lack of a second drummer hurt as well, but I had thought they would have found a way around it. (To be fair, that song's Ramones reference, 'down on Rock-, Rockaway Beach' had an extra 'rock' thrown in to match the cadence of the original song, a nice touch.)

Despite my affinity for the band being a byproduct of the new album, the songs that worked the best for me were the older ones, and I couldn't have named a single one of them if you'd paid me. Ultimately that was ok, despite my slight disappointment with the execution of my favorites, but I kept thinking about Titus Andronicus throughout. Whether that's a criticism of Okkervil River or just a serious compliment for their openers, I'm not sure. Probably both.

Titus Andronicus Set List: A More Perfect Union / Richard II or Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds (Responsible Hate Anthem) / No Future Part Three: Escape from No Future / The Battle of Hampton Roads / Titus Andronicus Forever...and Ever / Four Score and Seven

Okkervil River Set List: White Shadow Waltz / Pop Lie / Black / Rider / Starry Stairs / Wake and Be Fine / Piratess / The Valley / John Allyn Smith Sails / A Stone / So Come Back, I Am Waiting / Your Past Life as a Blast / For Real / Our Life is not a Movie, or Maybe / Lost Coastlines

Encore: Unless It's Kicks

Soundgarden at the Great Western Forum, 7/22/11

When I saw The Who in either 2002 or 2004 at the Hollywood Bowl--sorry, 2003 is right out--I was among the youngest people there at a spry twenty-one (or -three). It was the first older act I had seen, and it was amusing how many people there were talking about how this was real rock and roll, man. I mean, they totally kicked ass, and Roger Daltrey's voice held up better than I would have hoped for, but the idea that the excellence of The Who somehow put newer bands to shame was laughable to me.

Fast forward to 2011, I've just recently turned thirty, and now I'm the one shelling out silly amounts of money to see a band that I came of age musically with, and hold in much higher regard than most current groups. Soundgarden's Superunknown is the first CD I ever went out and purchased for myself (probably at The Wherehouse, but possibly Blockbuster Music), and one of the few I never sold back in a fit of adolescent impatience and poverty. I've never sat down to actually rank my entire musical library--do I smell a future blog post?--but I imagine it would rank in my all-time Top 20, easily. Sadly, the one time I saw Soundgarden before they broke up was at Lollapalooza 1996, along with Metallica and the Ramones, and I barely remember it. Too much pot smoke floating around Irvine Meadows that day for my fifteen year old self to hang.

Now they were back, and though I was a bit younger than the fogies talkin' shit at that Who show, I finally understood where they were coming from. (And wasn't any less wrong. It happens.) Even more than Daltrey, Chris Cornell's voice still sounded amazing, and the band sounded like they'd never been away. If anything, Cornell flexed his pipes a little too much, going high in spots on songs like "Spoonman" that sound better with his low end. And this was no greatest hits spotlight; right off the bat they started playing songs from the very beginning of their career. Normally I'd be all about the deep cuts, but when it started to look like every album but the last two was going to get that treatment, I got a little disgruntled. After they did "Black Rain," a song that they surely love a lot more than anyone in the audience did, I turned to my girlfriend and said "You know, it'd be nice if they pulled a little from Superunknown!" Almost like they heard me, six of the final seven selections from the main set were from that album, including a killer rendition of the title track with Pearl Jam's Mike McCready on dual lead, and hidden gem "Head Down."

The encore was more choices for the hardcore fan, closing with Badmotorfinger epic "Slaves & Bulldozers," but I think my favorite moment was when they did the hit single from that record, "Outshined." As thousands of people sang out, in unison, "Show me the power, child, I'd like to say that I'm down on my knees today," it gave me the butterflies, making me feel like I was thirteen again in all the best ways.

Set List: Searching with My Good Eye Open / Spoonman / Gun / Jesus Christ Pose / Room a Thousand Years Wide / Blow Up the Outside World / Loud Love / Big Dumb Sex / Ugly Truth / Fell on Black Days / Flower / Outshined / Black Rain / Rusty Cage / The Day I Tried to Live / My Wave / Burden in My Hand / Black Hole Sun / Head Down / Superunknown (with Mike McCready) / 4th of July

Encore: Beyond the Wheel / Hunted Down / Mailman / Slaves & Bulldozers

Fucked Up at the El Rey, 7/26/11

Bands led by big fat hardcore screamers aren't necessarily my thing, but Fucked Up's new David Come to Life received such universally great reviews that I had to check it out. Plus, you know: fuck! (Tee hee!) Well believe the hype, because this record is the fuckin' balls, children. It's an epic in all the best ways, and I haven't even tried to dissect the larger story it's trying to tell because I'm so busy making my ears bleed from some of the best fuckin' guitar riffs and solos I've heard in a long time. Damian Abraham's vocals take a little getting used to, but the music is so compelling it doesn't matter.

I was not-so-secretly hoping they would play the whole fuckin' album, and when they opened with the musical intro "Let Her Rest" I felt something coiling inside me, ready to explode at the opening riffs of "Queen of Hearts." The rest of the crowd appeared to be feeling the same thing, as the whole place started moving and Abraham jumped right into the sea of people in front of the stage after only a few fuckin' words. This took me out of it for a moment because while I love that level of energy and intensity, I'm a real stickler for hearing the songs as close to how I know them as possible, so when lines were being dropped because he was bouncing around the pit I got annoyed. Then I decided to stop being such an uptight fuck and rolled with it.

After it became clear that they weren't playing the entire album, the motherfuckers came back to it with one of my favorites, "Turn the Season." With killer backup vocals and lead guitar that sounds like a fuckin' boomerang, it's the catchiest track and got the house worked up even more. As it turned out, they only played six songs from David, but it didn't matter at all. It was just an hour and a half of crazy, pissed off punk rock done right. You're fuckin' A.

Set List: Let Her Rest---->Queen of Hearts / David Comes to Life / Turn the Season / Black Albino Bones / Running on Nothing / Crooked Head / I Hate Summer / The Other Shoe / Twice Born / A Little Death / Magic Word / Police / Son the Father

Encore: Baiting the Public / Generation

Titus Andronicus and Okkervil River photos by Andrew Youssef, Stereogum. Soundgarden photo by David Hall, OC Register. Fucked Up photo by Wally Skalij, LA Times.

My Morning Jacket at the Pantages, 6/22/11

2011-06-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

Fantastic. Amazing. Mind-blowing. Heart-stopping. Earth-moving. Really not too bad at all. The superlatives seem kind of redundant after a while when trying to describe a band like My Morning Jacket's live show. That's not to say that the impact is less than before (well, maybe just a little, but there can only be one first time), just that talking about it eventually and necessarily devolves from coherent statements into enthusiastic but formless vocalizations, or even just a widening of the eyes. Naturally, that's not gonna stop me from trying.

Ok, maybe I won't go on too much, except to say that their show at the Pantages last week, the eighth time I've seen them, easily landed in the upper half of my personal list. Playing with a focus that's mirrored on their great new record Circuital (one they must be very proud of, since we got all ten tracks), Jim James and company picked their spots carefully, jam-wise, and consistently kept the notoriously chatty LA concertgoers enthralled for almost two and a half hours. As a tireless defender of their previous effort Evil Urges, I was a little disappointed we didn't get a couple more selections from that one, but deep cuts like "Lay Low" and especially the early era classic "The Bear" made up for it. And, sacrilege though it may be, I was actually happy to get a break from "Dondante."

So I don't come to try to put words to what the people in attendance know could only really be felt, but instead to offer a brief eulogy to the glory days of James' amazing voice.

Before you get all defensive about this, hear me out. If you were to only listen to the records you would never notice the change, and I don't even think that's a studio trick; plenty of time to rest and get the perfect take can make a lot of difference. But his pipes just aren't equipped for all the touring anymore, and I can’t remember a show since the Z tour where he was the precision weapon he was back in the day. It’s weird too, in that it sounds to me like his normal tone is still great, and he can still belt the high parts and the screams, but if he tries to go straight through from the bottom he hits a snag somewhere along the way.

Being both a passionate singer and a professional, James alternates between just going for it and singing around his new limitations, and it never really sounds bad, but those of us who saw them six years ago can absolutely hear the difference. "Wordless Chorus" is a perfect example: when they first started playing that song on tour, his ability to duplicate and even surpass the high notes from the chorus was just about the most incredible singing I'd ever seen. Nowadays, he has to rein it in, giving it a halting feel that differs from the recorded version and the one in our memories. Perhaps cruelest of all is that Okonokos, the classic live album that was recorded on the Z tour, features James while he battles a cold, making him sound more like he does today than the remarkable instrument he was at the time.

Look, I'm not criticizing the guy, or even complaining--as I said, this show was one of my favorites--but it is a shame that time has started to catch up to his golden cords. So I say all this with a heavy heart, but also in awe and admiration that he was ever able to do the things he could do, and that I was lucky enough to be there.

Set List: Victory Dance / Circuital / The Day is Coming / Wordless Chorus / Off the Record / Touch Me I'm Going To Scream Pt. 2 / First Light / You Wanna Freak Out / The Bear / Wonderful (The Way I Feel) / Outta My System / Lay Low / I'm Amazed / Slow Slow Tune / Movin' Away / Carried Away (Carl Broemel solo song) / Gideon / Holdin' on to Black Metal / Anytime / One Big Holiday

Encore: Steam Engine / Smokin' from Shootin' / End of Run Thru / Mahgeetah

Photos by Timothy Norris, LA Weekly

TV on the Radio at the Music Box, 5/11/11

2011-05-29T15:50:00.000-07:00

It's not exactly remarkable or controversial to lay claim to TV on the Radio as one of your favorite bands these days, but sometimes obvious is obvious for a reason. They're really, really good, and their newest release, Nine Types of Light, certainly hasn't done anything to dampen my feelings about them. However, their live shows can be a bit more hit and miss. With five permanent members and a touring horn section, it's a lot of moving parts for the soundboard and acoustics to deal with--sometimes too much. At the Music Box though, they went back to basics and played probably the best set I've ever seen from them.

A couple years ago, I talked about how I thought Wilco had established themselves as "our best American band," mostly because I thought it sounded cool and was still in the honeymoon stage with their latest record (and was rightly taken to task for it in the comments). That title wouldn't mean any more now than it did then, but if I had to choose I would go with TV on the Radio. Their inventiveness with soundscapes, and the fusion of rock and funk and electronic genres really make them stand out. There's always a lot going on, a lot to hear and discover upon multiple listens. I mention this because, at this particular show, they decided the fundamental rock spirit of the songs was the most important element, ditching the horns entirely. It resulted in a bracing hour-plus of mass dancing and singing.

The set began with the opening track from their previous album, Dear Science, then went into a killer one-two of "Caffeinated Consciousness" and "The Wrong Way," lead singer Tunde Adebimpe bouncing across the stage during the latter. Their songs always take on a slightly different energy and identity live, but the oldest tracks like "The Wrong Way" and "Satellite" definitely benefit the most from being sped up and rocked out. "Red Dress" sounded even more angry and bombastic, despite the lack of the studio version's horns. Instead of showcasing the new album--released just a month before--the band chose to draw evenly from their entire catalogue, and while I would have loved to hear guitarist Kyp Malone freak the hell out on "No Future Shock," I think it was a good choice. I can't remember the last show that I "danced" so much at (in quotes because my particular style of rocking out can only be called dancing under the most generous of circumstances).

My one complaint would be that after an expertly crafted main set, culminating in the punky "Repetition" and their biggest hit and best song, "Wolf Like Me," the encore seemed to want to start over from scratch. "A Method" is always welcome, and I love "DLZ," but some of the crazy energy was lost. Still, in the wake of the recent death of their bassist Gerard Smith, they managed to put together one of the best performances I've seen from them. I can think of no better tribute to their fallen friend.

Set List: Halfway Home / Caffeinated Consciousness / The Wrong Way / Blues From Down Here / Will Do / Province / Red Dress / Dreams / Young Liars / Staring at the Sun / Repetition / Wolf Like Me

Encore: A Method / DLZ / Satellite

Photo by Timothy Norris, OC Weekly

Potpourri: Holy Sh!t!

2011-02-16T00:28:00.000-08:00

The last couple weeks have been loaded with exciting music news, and I thought I'd gather a bunch of it into one place for all you lovely people. I know, I truly am benevolent and wonderful. So, in roughly chronological order:

On February 2nd, The White Stripes announced their breakup (click on the picture at the left to read the band's statement). This news would have really upset me about eight years ago, but at this point it's neither surprising or all that troubling. I've written about them a couple times, and while those two pieces are a little different, the basic idea is that I loved them at first, then the shine started to fade. Icky Thump was actually a very good album, so why not end on a high note? I wish they hadn't canceled their last trip to LA (for which I had tickets), but hopefully this will free Jack White up to make more music with his better bands, The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather. Thanks for being my gateway to good, outside-the-mainstream music, guys.

Last week, I Think It Has Something To Do With Oatmeal favorite TV on the Radio announced they would be releasing a new album, Nine Types of Light, some time this spring. Presumably, this will bring about more touring as well (incidentally, I caught their last show, at Outside Lands in 2009, before they went on a mini hiatus). They aren't always great live, since sound guys often have trouble figuring them out, but speaking as someone who reckons they had the fourth best album of the last decade, I'm all kinds of excited to see what they come up with next.

On Sunday, the amazing happened: Arcade Fire won the Grammy for Album of the Year, beating out such Billboard (if not creative) titans as Lady Gaga, Katy Perry and Lady Antebellum. There has been a lot of excitement from the "indie" music community as a result, and while I share in most of it, I think it's likely a flash in the pan. Not them, certainly; I adore Arcade Fire and think they absolutely did put out the best album of last year. But the Grammys don't often include quality rock or indie artists in their record sales club of the top awards, assuming that the more specific Rock, Hard Rock, etc. categories are reward enough. I want to see them recognize (or at least nominate) bands on the same level, or in the same vein, as Arcade Fire for a couple more years before I'll think it's a level playing field. For now it's just an incredible upset that the best album of 2010 actually was recognized as such by the mainstream music machine. Oh, and it also gave us this blog, quite possibly the funniest thing ever.

Probably the biggest news for most of you was the sudden announcement the morning after the Grammys of a new Radiohead album. It's astounding to me that they can manage to keep things like this so quiet. Part of it is their lack of affiliation with a record label, but still, you'd think somebody would have leaked at least the information, if not the whole album. That link takes you to a page that has a lot of info about the deluxe version, but if you want to get the album by Saturday for a reasonable price, you just pay nine dollars for the digital version. It's here that I must implore you to not suck, to simply shell out the money for one of the best bands alive, and possibly of all time. I realize that within minutes of its release, The King of Limbs will be all over the internet, available to anyone clever enough to know where to find those things. It is up to you, faithful music fans, to exert the self control required to get out the credit card and type in those sixteen numbers.

And finally, in what is the most exciting development for me personally, Queens of the Stone Age will be playing a string of shows in support of the re-issue of their self-titled debut, including a stop at the Wiltern in LA on April 12. I haven't had much chance to write about them since I started this blog, but they are my favorite band, the one I've seen more than any other, and I haven't been this geeked up for a concert in a long time. Pre-sale starts tomorrow at 10 AM, and the password is dostuff (seriously). Queens of the Stone Age may very well be their best (though they've put out a string of awesome albums since then) and the chance to see them play it in its entirety, with the B-sides sequenced in, is almost enough to take away the sting of missing Coachella this year. Almost.

Smith Westerns at Detroit Bar, 2/12/11

2011-02-15T09:24:00.000-08:00

Maybe I just wasn't paying enough attention before, but Detroit Bar has really been bringing in some good shows the past year. They've always been an excellent local showcase, but since 2010 I've seen Surfer Blood, The Hold Steady, The Besnard Lakes and now Smith Westerns there, to say nothing of bands like Sleigh Bells, Autolux and Yo La Tengo that I missed. It has occasional sound problems, but it's small, it's loud, it's cheap and it's close. On Saturday, it lived up to every bit of that description.

Ok, so that sounds like a lede for a review of the venue itself, and that's not really what I'm here to talk about. So, Smith Westerns: they're good. Equal parts 60's pop and 70's glam, they have dancey/bouncey with a fair helping of shred down to a science, and this is only two records in. I listen to them, and I get a vision of Marc Bolan, Jarvis Cocker, David Bowie and Joey Ramone, all hanging out and nodding along to the music. Their latest, Dye it Blonde, is on the early list for top music of the year.

Like I said above, this was a typical Detroit show: crowded, loud, high energy and mildly plagued by sound issues. This time it was lead singer Cullen Omori's microphone cutting out a few syllables at a time, usually during the biggest moments. Because of this, the first few songs couldn't quite create the momentum they should have, but once they got it fixed the rest of the set sounded awesome. Omori gave off a real Ted 'Theodore' Logan vibe at times, with his goofy asides, long black hair and stoner laugh, but he was a charismatic frontman, and the band played really well.

The set was a bit briefer than I would have liked, but when most of your songs don't make it past three minutes you can cram a lot into a forty-five minute show. Most of Dye it Blonde was represented, with the band ending the night on album closer "Dye the World," probably the most overtly glam rock track, an epic-by-their-standards four minutes of fuzzed-out riffing balladry. Smith Westerns sound like they could churn songs like this out in their sleep, and I would welcome that.

Set List: Still New / Dreams / Imagine Pt 3 / Only One / Be My Girl / Tonight / End of the Night / All Die Young / Girl in Love / My Heart / Smile / Weekend / Dye the World

Photo by Mary Bell, OC Weekly

Against Me! at the Music Box, 1/30/11

2011-02-11T16:50:00.000-08:00

As I get older, my concert experience changes. A lot of that is just me being older and fatter (well, definitely older), but some of it is just the types of bands I'm into now as compared to back in my early concert-going days. Back then, the idea of a mosh pit seemed, if not appealing, then certainly comforting. I figured out early on that it distracted too much from my enjoyment of the show, but it was still fairly awesome to have one nearby. Getting knocked over repeatedly by a skinhead during the Offspring, slipping on the beer-soaked Palladium floor during the mad rush to the stage when the Sex Pistols came out; even standing between the pit and my more timid friends at a Queens of the Stone Age set at Detour--these are some of my fondest concert memories. So it was nice to be back in that punk rock type of environment when Against Me! took the stage at this show.

The crowd, which had been just milling about impatiently since the previous band, sprang to life and charged to the front, while simultaneously creating a large mosh pit. It was a great achievement in architecture and spacial understanding, and also exceedingly badass. I didn't even know the song and still found myself caught up, head-banging and pumping my fists at all the shout-alongs. When I saw them back in August, they had a keyboardist with them for the newer material, but also to flesh out some of the old songs. On this night, though, they were all punk, returning to the traditional four-piece band. Lead singer Tom Gabel was even more amped up than the last time, and bassist Andrew Seward could barely get his fist out of the air long enough to play his instrument.

As wave after wave of crowd surfers made their way to the front, only to turn around and do it again, Against Me! pounded out twenty-five songs, often leaving me out of breath even on the songs I didn't know the words to. There could have been more new songs, but since they played their Fugazi-ish "The Ocean" I won't complain too much. The first time I heard them, the last thing I thought of was me, sweaty and panting and happy at one of their shows, but that's exactly why it's always worth it to check back in on bands.

The other highlight of the night was opener Cheap Girls, a bunch of kids who looked like they were born in the 90's, but also sounded like they were warped from them. They reminded me of Dinosaur Jr on a lot of songs, only if Lou Barlow permanently took over lead vocals. Very good stuff, and I'm excited to track down their records.

Set List: Pints of Guinness Make You Strong / From Her Lips To God's Ears (The Energizer) / Cliche Guevara / High Pressure Low / Don't Lose Touch / New Wave / White Crosses / Rice and Bread / I Was a Teenage Anarchist / The Ocean / White People for Peace / Americans Abroad / Reinventing Axl Rose / Walking Is Still Honest / You Look Like I Need A Drink / Turn Those Clapping Hands Into Angry Balled Fists / T.S.R. (This Shit Rules) / Rapid Decompression / Thrash Unreal / Miami / Sink, Florida, Sink

Encore: Up The Cuts / Problems / Baby, I'm An Anarchist / We Laugh At Danger (And Break All The Rules)

Photo by Michele McManmon, LA Indie Music Examiner

Coachella 2011: Yeah, great, but where the hell is Kyuss??

2011-01-20T09:30:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. Hipsters all across Southern California start getting antsy with antici..........pation, wondering just who will be playing at their favorite desert hangout, at least when they're not focused on getting as pampered and drugged up as possible. Ok, perhaps that's a bit cynical; they also care about getting into the parties. But what does the Coachella 2011 lineup mean for all the people who go exclusively for the music? Very good things, in this humble blogger's opinion.

The initial reaction I've encountered, much to my surprise, is "meh." I look at that lineup, and I see the usual mix of buzz bands, promising up and comers, established crowd-pleasers, reunions and heavyweights, and I wonder what others are seeing that is inspiring such indifference. Yes, Kings of Leon are headlining Friday night, and we all know how I feel about them these days (and Step 3 now becomes hugely relevant), but how is that any worse than 2008, when Jack Johnson was the Friday Coachella Stage closer? We all watched the Raconteurs and the Verve kick major ass before him, then wandered off to watch something good. Even last year, when I had zero interest in Jay-Z, Public Image Ltd. were playing at the same time on another stage, and it was awesome. The beauty of Coachella is the never ending options, so don't pretend like one band is somehow ruining your day.

To that point, Friday is loaded with great bands; you just have to read the small print: Titus Andronicus, The Black Keys, Sleigh Bells, Ariel Pink, Tame Impala, The Morning Benders, Klaxons. And those are just the ones I'm anxious to see. !!!, Cut Copy, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Gayngs, Cee Lo, Robyn, Crystal Castles, Warpaint, and Interpol are all favorites of the Coachella demographic, and sure to draw lots of fans. The whole weekend, in fact, is loaded with bands that came out with great albums in the last year or so; in addition to the ones I've mentioned, there's Broken Social Scene, The Radio Dept., Foals, The New Pornographers, Delorean, Best Coast, The National, Mumford and Sons and others.

This year also brings a strong R&B/rap presence, with Kanye (who I can't stand, but whatever, many of you love him), Nas & Damian Marley, Eykah Badu, the seriously entertaining Raphael Saadiq (really, go check him out, you'll wanna dance), the aforementioned Cee Lo, and Ms. Lauryn Hill. Though I must admit, that last one raises more questions: why the title? I'm pretty sure we're aware she's a 'she.' Is she letting the hopeful fans know she's not married? Is it bestowed upon her, like Sir Ian McKellen? The Coward Robert Ford?

Two words: Arcade Fire. Those of us who have seen them at Coachella before, in 2007 and especially 2005, know that this is gonna be amazing.

Finally, the thing I'm most excited about is a pair of seemingly disparate reunions. Suede (and I will not add "The London" as a qualifier, so kiss my ass, legal decision) and Death From Above 1979. The former may not be the much hoped-for Pulp, but they're from the same era and great in their own right. Their self-titled debut would be a great primer, but they also just released a double disc of greatest hits and deep album cuts, all remastered and sounding the best they ever have. One imagines they knew the reunion was coming and planned the release accordingly, but I won't hold it against them. DFA 1979 (in this case, I think the legally mandated addendum to the name is awesome) haven't been around as long. In fact, they had only one proper album before tiring of each other, but their punk/metal/industrial/dance mix sounds perfect for the Sahara tent. Sweaty dance party USA.

So for anyone less than enthused by the lineup: clearly, you are wrong. Just go, and you can thank me later.

Give Me Back My Keys!

2011-01-03T22:51:00.000-08:00

I've just spent the last couple days grousing and griping about bands I used to love changing for the worse, usually for apparently commercial reasons. Of course, sometimes it's not about that at all; sometimes bands just evolve from something we care deeply about into something we don't, and vice versa. As it turns out, there were two releases this year that fit this description pretty well, one vice and one versa.

A friend of mine has been an avid Against Me! supporter for a while now, and having the infectious love of things she has, I tried to let her talk me into it. In the end, I just couldn't do it: the lead singer couldn't sing, the songs were all angry but hookless, and it just didn't do anything for me. However, as I've gone into here before, 2007's New Wave bushwhacked me with a full-blown assault of genius melodies, hooks and choruses. Hooking up with Butch Vig clearly helped, but Tom Gabel had also started to learn to sing, so that the rough edges now sounded more like grace notes than false ones. This type of change unsurprisingly alienated many of their old fans, with only the punkiest songs seeming to please them. For my part, though, I had finally found something to love in their sound, and I was intrigued by where they would go next.

If you've been here for a while, or even just spoken to me about music in the past couple years, you'll probably nod your head silently as I declare my love for the Hold Steady one more time. They fuse a bar band aesthetic with a love of classic rock and the lyrics-as-short-stories of lead singer Craig Finn, hitting three rather large sweet spots for me. Each of their first three albums got better, especially with the addition on Separation Sunday of keyboardist Franz Nicolay, culminating in the classic Boys and Girls in America. Then Stay Positive exhibited a restlessness with the formula, and before their next release Nicolay left the band, leaving many fans to wonder just how much of a change was coming.

This year saw the release of the next records by each band, and neither was quite what I would have expected. Against Me!'s White Crosses brought Vig back to the producer's chair, but it also brought Gabel's complete reformation as a singer, along with a new love of keyboard and piano. The album is thirty-six minutes of undeniable singalongs, never toning back the intensity and emotions of the songs, even while showing a polish and songwriting ability I hadn't seen from them before. "Because of the Shame" is their piano-driven homage to the Boss' "Thunder Road," and "Spanish Moss," the song I listened to more than any other this year, opens with a "Baba O'Riley" inspired guitar intro before the drums pound and the 'whoa oh's' come calling. "You just need to find some place to get away," Gabel sings over one of those indomitable guitar lines that stays with you for days. Such a great, straightforward and big-sounding song, it's the rare track that I never really tire of. It's followed up by the album's punkest moment, the sub-two minute "Rapid Decompression," a thrown bone for all the former fans/current haters, but awesome on its own.

Heaven is Whenever finds the Hold Steady similarly trying out a newer, more polished sound, but to less generous effect. The most glaring issue is the overly slick production. I get the sense from the band's interviews that they were excited to refine their sound, but a large part of their charm was the meat and potatoes approach to their already great songs. Here, it's like they wrote and recorded everything, then went back and fastidiously added unnecessary little touches, like overwrought strings or the audible strumming of acoustic guitars high up in the mix. And while the piano is still around, it's no longer in the majority of songs, and just doesn't have the same energy. Now, this isn't to say there's nothing good here. This is still a kick ass band, and in Tad Kubler, they have one of the great, underrated guitarists out there. On the best songs, like "The Weekenders" and "Rock Problems," he still gets to lead the way, and the new approach either doesn't matter or actually adds an interesting layer. The former opens with atmospheric guitars and an insistent bass drum before the chorus brings that old Hold Steady guitar sound; the latter is a silly but undeniable romp, the most overtly old school track on the record, and the pre-chorus is probably my favorite moment on the album. Craig Finn is still in fine lyrical form, so that part of their appeal is unchanged, but he's gone almost completely over to singing, as opposed to his former shout/talk/sing hybrid that brought so much urgency.

The obvious issue is the departure of Nicolay. Upon leaving, he said he didn't think there was any way to improve upon the big, anthemic rock songs the band specialized in, and he wanted to try something new. The band seems to agree, but the result has only shown that they should have stuck to what they knew best. Some of the anthemic songs actually sound like they're trying too hard, and that makes me sad, like they've forgotten something that used to feel like second nature. Heaven is Whenever isn't a bad album by any means; softer, less typical songs like "The Sweet Part of the City" and "Barely Breathing" are actually pretty good, but they're not from the band I know. As a rock record, it's perfectly enjoyable, but as a Hold Steady album, it leaves me very disappointed, more inclined to reach back to the early era classics than sing along.

In an interesting twist, when I saw Against Me! in August they had a keyboardist to play the new songs, and I swore I recognized him, even from the relative nosebleed of where I sat. Then, the cameras focused on him, and none other than Franz Nicolay and his signature mustache/hat combo were filling the Greek screens. It made sense, of course; Against Me! now sounded more like the Hold Steady than the Hold Steady did, so why not get the master of driving keys and infectious back-up vocals? I did wonder, however, if his departure had more to do with interpersonal strife, since this was more of a lateral than a drastic step forward. One band's loss is another's gain, however brief (apparently he was only touring and not made a permanent member), so I guess the reasons ultimately don't matter.

What I'm left with is a mixed bag that mostly evens itself out. One band has gone in a direction I don't like all that much, while another has made themselves more appealing to me while alienating many former supporters. I guess it gives me some perspective on both sides, but screw that--I want my bar band back.

The Kings of Leon Problem

2010-12-30T17:35:00.000-08:00

Kings of Leon, why won't you just let me go? In the past two years you've done everything you possibly can to alienate me, a former huge fan who wants so desperately to believe that you can be better than your current musical aspirations. Still I cling to the memories of what you once were, despite your repeated demonstrations of mediocrity. Well, this time we're really finished, and I'm going to share with everyone else how I managed to finally break away from your emotional abuse.

You would think that the shitty albums alone would be sufficient to convince me to turn on Kings of Leon the way I did Weezer. The difference, I think, is that these guys were teetering dangerously close to being crap even as they put out a record I placed in my top twenty-one of the previous decade. Because of the Times managed to walk the line between selling out for a bigger, more commercially viable sound and maturing into a more complex and interesting band. That album is really the whole reason I still hope for better, and it leads me to the first crucial step in the divorcing process:

1.) Torture
Normally I wouldn't advocate torture anywhere but in the world of Jack Bauer, but desperate times and all that. In order to begin to truly accept how awful this band now is, you must listen to their two most recent albums at least five times each per day. And I'm not just talking "driving around casual listening;" no, this requires some serious A Clockwork Orange, Room 23 on Lost level shit. The key to this (other than the general aural horror of it all) is to leave the two or three decent songs in with the rest. When songs like "Closer" start to feel like they're on the same level as the collected works of The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and Radiohead, just maybe you'll have a new understanding of how low the Kings of Leon bar has really sunk.

2.) Witness Relocation
Take the first three albums and re-label them as being by U2, then file them accordingly. This works on several levels. First, we all know you never listen to U2 anymore, except for the occasional nostalgia trip to Joshua Tree, so they'll be good and safe hiding among Pop and Zooropa and all the other latter-day U2 you wish you'd never purchased. Second, those Kings of Leon records are a helluva lot better than anything U2 has done in years, so it'll be a pleasant surprise when "Knocked Up" comes out of your speakers. Lastly, the irony of being relegated to the dregs of the catalogue of the band they so clearly worship/rip off is a delicious one indeed.

3.) Never Watch Them Play!
This sounds obvious, but I'm mostly referring to festival situations. I know of that which I speak: at this year's Outside Lands, they were the closing act of the weekend, and I decided to go see them. Sure, Only by the Night was boring and blatantly grasping for mass appeal at the expense of artistic integrity, but hey, they'd been good live before! So I watched, and of course the diabolical fuckers played many of my old favorites, and really well at that, and I got all wrapped up in nostalgia again. This was clearly a deliberate tactic aimed at softening me up for the new material they put on display that night. At the time, I remember thinking songs like "Radioactive" and "Back Down South" sounded like a return to form; when Come Around Sundown came out, I felt ashamed, like I was the faithful wife in a bad country song. Don't let this happen to you!

4.) Sell Your Soul to Satan
Two can play at this game, Kings of Leon!

5.) Stare Incessantly at the Photo Above
I mean, seriously?

6.) Go Back in Time to Alter History
Forget the Butterfly Effect--any potential alternate future will be better for all of humanity, even if it's like the Jeremy Irons part of The Time Machine.

7.) Join a Monastery in Laos
If all else fails, the only option left is to place yourself as far from their sphere of influence as possible. This means that North America and Europe are out, since both continents seem to be completely under Kings of Leon's spell. And no, this will not contradict with Step 4; think of it as hedging your bets.

I've done all that I can do for you, but I hope, if nothing else, reading the pain of someone going through a similar ordeal brings you some small measure of peace. Good luck, and Godspeed.

Note: Author cannot confirm having actually gone through each of these steps

The Black Crowes at the Palladium, 12/11/10

2010-12-30T13:04:00.000-08:00

There aren't many bands I've loved since the beginning that I've yet to see, but the Black Crowes fit that bill. Sure, I saw them at KROQ's Almost Acoustic Christmas back in 1994 (and let's all take a moment to marvel at a time when a band like them would ever be played on KROQ), but that was something like five songs, and I barely remember it. Now, just before they go on "indefinite hiatus," a term that their age suggests is a euphemism for retirement, I finally got to cross them off my ever-shortening list. However, as great as they were, I couldn't enjoy it as much as I should have. An open letter:

Dear LA Concert-goers,

Shut the fuck up.

OK, perhaps I should spell that out more clearly. I realize that many of you are "important" and therefore have "important" things to discuss at all times, so it can be difficult to exercise even the smallest amount of consideration for your fellow man and the band he's come to see. I get that you probably didn't even pay for your tickets, so what's it to you? See, the thing is, most of the people who are intently watching the band did pay, and handsomely too, because of their love of the particular band they are there to see (Full disclosure: I did not pay for my tickets, and yet I was only there because I wanted to see a great band play some great songs, not to socialize). So, if you could kindly close your flapping, obnoxious mouths and show a little respect, I'm sure we'd all have a better time. And who knows? You just might hear some music, too!

Regards,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Blogger

Now that's out of the way, I should say that despite the excessive chattiness of the audience, this was a great evening. The band opened with an acoustic set, which certainly didn't do anything to drown out the crowd, but it was an awesome exercise in re-imagining songs. In addition to a handful of covers and rarities, the Crowes pulled heavily from their best album, The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, nailing all of them. "Hotel Illness" saw drummer Steve Gorman come out from behind his kit to bang gleefully away at a single bass drum, and "Thorn in My Pride" and "Remedy" featured some killer solos and jamming. Set closer "My Morning Song" was re-worked into more of a gospel rave-up, and as much as I love the original, this was a soulful, joyous interpretation.

Jamming was certainly the theme for the evening, with most songs in the electric set ending in either Luther Dickinson or Rich Robinson going off for minutes at a time, lead singer Chris Robinson smiling, clapping and dancing between them. The best of these occurred in what was also the best run part of this set, when they played three straight song from Amorica. In the transition between "Ballad in Urgency" and "Wiser Time," the two guitarists took turns soloing, before coming together perfectly in lockstep to melt the collective face of the Palladium. Sometimes jamming can get excessive and obnoxious (hello, Mars Volta!), but when it's done so well, it can be the best thing about live music. And if the Black Crowes want to go out on such a high note, who am I to argue?

Acoustic Set: Remedy / Hotel Illness / Whoa Mule / Tornado / No Expectations (Rolling Stones cover) / Thorn in My Pride / Driving Wheel (Junior Parker cover) / Downtown Money Waster / She Talks to Angels / My Morning Song

Electric Set: Exit / P.25 London / Ballad in Urgency / Wiser Time / Oh Josephine / Stop Kicking My Heart Around / Hard to Handle / And the Band Played On

Encore: Oh! Sweet Nuthin' (The Velvet Underground cover) / Willin' (Little Feat cover)

Weezer play Pinkerton at the Gibson Amphitheatre, 11/27/10

2010-12-29T12:08:00.000-08:00

The next sentence would have shocked and horrified the fifteen year old me, and not just because he wouldn't have understood the concept of 'blogging' or even the Internet. I've come to really hate Weezer. I look back on the last ten years or so of their music, and I find it hard to remember what ever drew me to them in the first place. Luckily, there was a reason I cared enough to hate them so much, and I can still go back and enjoy the good ol' days.

Pinkerton in particular has always been one of my favorite albums, ten songs that perfectly captured how I felt at the time. Not so much the lyrics as the emotion behind them, and I'm still perfectly capable of singing myself hoarse to "Tired of Sex," "Getchoo," "The Good Life," et al. When this show was announced, I felt a cautious optimism. The last time I had seen Weezer play, at Coachella in 2005, they had been rote and lifeless, a condition owing more than a little to the abomination that was their most recent album at the time, Make Believe. Never had I heard a more blatant attempt to recapture former glory; it was all of the usual Weezer hooks and guitar lines with none of the sincerity or emotion or quality. Songs like "We Are All On Drugs," "Perfect Situation" and the odious "Beverly Hills" made me actively angry, and worst of all, they gained no vitality on the stage.

It only got worse after that, and I won't even bother to put into words why songs like "Pork and Beans" and albums like Raditude furthered my hatred. It was like a former friend had grown so full of himself that he lost all sense of who he used to be, and worst of all, there was a brand new generation of fans that were telling him how awesome he was. I thought my time with Weezer was done, but then they decided to launch a tour honoring (and making money from) where they came from, and my sentimentality overrode any trepidation I might have had. From the moment I took my seat, I felt old--everyone in my vicinity was at least eight years my junior, young enough to view Weezer's first two records as "classic rock." After catching the very end of Best Coast's fuzzy beach rock, the band came out in its new setup, with former drummer Pat Wilson now on guitar, the ubiquitous (and it should be said, amazing) Josh Freese on drums, and lead singer Rivers Cuomo guitarless, the better to be able to run around and act like a diva. He even had a trampoline!

All of my grousing about the current state of the band aside, the night was expertly constructed, starting with latest single "Memories" and going steadily backwards, touching upon each album with a song or two. After being subjected to "Pork and Beans" and a bloated song that allowed Cuomo to venture out into the crowd for an extended period, the Lost fan in me cringed a little to see Jorge Garcia join the band on "Perfect Situation." Even post-Pinkerton songs I like, such as "Dope Nose" and "Island in the Sun," were tainted, by having bassist Scott Shriner handle lead vocals and the normally charming Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast join Cuomo for a less-than-spirited rendition, respectively. I sang along, but I felt myself trying to get into it, instead of the music sucking me in.

Then, suddenly, it all started to change. "Hash Pipe" started winning me back, and when Cuomo announced "B-sides!" before the band launched into beloved rarities "You Gave Your Love to Me Softly" and "Susanne," I felt myself flying backwards through time. Here was the band I loved so much! Many of the kids near me didn't know these songs, but in typical music snob fashion I liked the ones who did even more. Eschewing any popular songs from their debut (again, the message was money; you pay for both shows if you wanna hear each album's singles!), they closed the opening set with "Only in Dreams," a song I've never loved as much as many of my contemporaries, but which was amazing in this context. The band had very smartly put together an evening that would have something for everyone, and was in fact geared more toward the old curmudgeons like me. Never let it be said that they don't know what they're doing.

After having my heart of ice melted so enjoyably, I was completely primed for Pinkerton, and they didn't disappoint. "Tired of Sex" wasn't as gonzo as the album version, Cuomo leaving out the crazed yelps and screams that make it so great, but from that point on they played a faithful and rocked out version of the old classic. In fact, I spent so much time singing as loud as I possibly could that I don't have a real solid recollection of the rest, though that speaks to the general awesomeness. If this was the last time I will ever see Weezer--and barring a miraculous upswing in the quality of their albums, it was--it was a fitting coda to our relationship.

Set List: Memories / Pork and Beans / The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn) / Perfect Situation (with Jorge ‘Hurley’ Garcia) / Dope Nose / Island in the Sun (with Bethany Cosentino of Best Coast) / Hash Pipe / You Gave Your Love to Me Softly / Susanne / Only in Dreams

Pinkerton: Tired of Sex / Getchoo / No Other One / Why Bother? / Across the Sea / The Good Life / El Scorcho / Pink Triangle / Falling for You / Butterfly

Photo by Luis Sinco, LA Times

The Black Angels and Black Mountain at the El Rey, 11/24/2010

2010-12-28T15:04:00.000-08:00

If not for that Deftones/Mastodon show, this would have been easily the heaviest pairing I saw all year, and certainly the most throwback. Both bands are firmly entrenched in the late 60's to early 70's, though they take different approaches. The Black Angels go for the psychedelic, while Black Mountain can be the best Black Sabbath emulators around.

I love Black Mountain, not least because of the aforementioned similarities to one of my favorite bands of all time, but the Black Angels were new to me. I usually prefer to scope a band out on record before seeing them live, since it can be hard to fully appreciate songs you've never heard before, and if I like them live I just end up going and getting their album and wanting to see them again right away. That's definitely what happened here, with their droney, heavy sound sucking me in right away with opener "Bad Vibrations." The only false note of their set happened to be the same song I have an issue with on Phosphene Dream, the radio-baiting "Telephone." In a sea of pounding drums, spacey guitars and buzzing synths, the borderline warmed-over Monkees feel of the song grated badly against what made the rest of the show so good.

As for Black Mountain, they were thunderous as always, but on their newest release they've embraced the acoustic side of things, which led to a mellow interlude of "Buried by the Blues" and "Sadie" after the bombast of "Tyrants." After that, though, it was right back to the heavy, with an extended version of "Druganaut" and then the Sabbath-loving "Don't Run Our Hearts Around." Lead singer and guitarist Stephen McBean was in top form in his customary position to the left of singer Amber Webber, grooving away with a steady rocking motion, never getting too demonstrative. Webber, who has started to assume even more lead vocal duties, unfortunately continued her usual shyness, frequently looking away from the crowd and holding back on her bigger moments despite possessing an incredible voice. Her voice paired with McBean's, singing on such heavy songs, is a large part of Black Mountain's appeal, bringing a layer of beauty they might otherwise lack, so it's always disappointing when she holds herself back.

Still, it was a rollicking set, even if it seemed to end abruptly after a two song encore of "The Hair Song" and "Stormy High." I may have missed the 70's by a fair stretch, but on this night I felt I knew what it would be like to have been there.

Black Mountain Set List: Wilderness Heart / Let Spirits Ride / Wucan / Tyrants / Buried by the Blues / Sadie / Angels / Druganaut / Old Fangs / Rollercoaster / Don't Run Our Hearts Around

Encore: The Hair Song / Stormy High

Photos by Timothy Norris, LA Weekly

Deerhunter at the Music Box, 11/1/10

2010-12-27T18:54:00.000-08:00

I'm always excited to hear new material from a band I love, especially if I've recently become obsessed with an album. Sometimes, though, that newness can overwhelm a band to a degree, messing with the flow of their show. That definitely happened to Deerhunter at the former Fonda.

That's not to say that they weren't good; I really enjoyed it, and there were moments of greatness. It just felt that they were still figuring out how best to incorporate the songs from new record Halcyon Digest into the live show. Opening with "Desire Lines," for instance, feels like a questionable decision. Though it's one of the best songs on the album, its dirgey nature, particularly the three minute repetitive outro, doesn't strike me as the ideal way to open a set--if anything, I'd have made it the closer. It took until the third song, "Never Stops" for the show to feel like it was in a groove, but then a weird rendition of "Rainwater Cassette Exchange" threw it off its game again.

"Revival" lived up to its name, kick-starting the best part of the set, a run that included "Fountain Stairs" and peaked with a truly epic version of "Nothing Ever Happened," a song that features singer/guitarist Bradford Cox stretching out his soloing skills to killer effect. Unfortunately, the momentum didn't last through the encore, as the band opted for an older, gloomier track in "Spring Hall Convert," before finally finishing on a relative high note. I hate to sound like I'm complaining too much (especially when I normally fall over myself in an attempt to praise), but it really was an up and down performance. The highs were worth it, but I know Deerhunter can be better.

Set List: Desire Lines / Hazel St. / Never Stops / Memory Boy / Rainwater Cassette Exchange / Don't Cry / Revival / Little Kids / Fountain Stairs / Nothing Ever Happened / Helicopter / He Would Have Laughed

Encore: Spring Hall Convert / Cover Me (Slowly)--->Agoraphobia / Fluorescent Grey

Photo by Andrew Youssef

Built to Spill at the El Rey, 10/28/10

2010-12-27T17:40:00.000-08:00

Though I caught them at Outside Lands, I never got to see a proper Built to Spill show on their tour for There is No Enemy, their excellent album from last year. Luckily, Doug Martsch brought his group of dad-looking indie gods back to LA in October, and it was a typically great set.

Also typically, they played songs from all over their discography. We did get four from the album, including the rocked-out "Pat," which led into "Carry the Zero" for an incredible close to the main set. Martsch is one of the most consistently entertaining frontmen out there, though not because he says anything funny; in fact, he hardly speaks to the audience at all. Rather, his somewhat Muppet-like appearance (the photo above do it no justice) and spastic shaking around of his head make it seem impossible that he could sing, let alone shred the way he does. And yet he holds it all together while looking like he might go crazy at any time.

For the encore we got a different version of Martsch, as he came out with just an acoustic guitar to play a couple of his solo compositions. No less emotional in his singing, he still had a very different calm about him during this part of the night, and it was interesting to see. The band came right back out though, tearing off a great rendition of "Time Trap" to start the final drive. During "Broken Chairs'" extended outro, my tired legs were no match for my rocked-out soul.

Set List: Traces / Stab / Hindsight / Distopian Dream Girl / The Plan / Life's a Dream / I Would Hurt a Fly / Planting Seeds / Else / The Wait / Joyride / Things Fall Apart / Pat / Carry the Zero

Encore 1 (Doug Martsch solo acoustic): Dream / Offer

Encore 2: Time Trap / Twin Falls--->Some / Broken Chairs

Mastodon and Deftones at Gibson Amphitheatre, 10/12/10

2010-12-27T15:57:00.000-08:00

We all make mistakes. I look back at some of the music I used to listen to, hell, love, and I can't help but cringe. KoЯn in particular seems an example of bad judgment, not least of all due to the opening salvo of "Justin:" "Fuck all that bullshit!" But if there's one band from that time period that I'll still defend and happily listen to, it's Deftones, and seeing them paired with the best metal band alive at the moment, Mastodon, was like going into my own personal Mosh Pit Time Machine(™, © and all that).

I'm sure some of you would disagree with that stance, but too bad. Adrenaline sounds every bit the adolescent whining its target audience so often engaged in , but Around the Fur and White Pony are excellent metal records. The band had been on hiatus for a while after bassist Chi Cheng went into a coma as a result of a serious car accident in 2008, but they returned this year with a new bassist and Diamond Eyes, a solid addition to their catalogue. At this show, however, they chose to play heavily from the three albums I mentioned above, and it was, in a word, awesome. After starting with a new song, they played a three song pack from Around the Fur, including the title track and "Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)," then later did White Pony standout "Passenger." They closed with three songs from Adrenaline, ramping up the crowd to a fever pitch before closing with the charmingly juvenile "7 Words," leaving us wanting more.

Mastodon opened (the headliners were a re-constituted Alice in Chains, but that band without Layne Staley is not something I need to experience), creating an interesting contrast between my tastes now and ten years ago. Sadly, and utterly ridiculously (and adverbly!), they started at 7:15, making it nearly impossible for anyone who came from Orange County and has a job to make it in time. Thus, my friends and I only got the second half of their forty-five minute set, though that did include the epic "The Czar" and "Colony of Birchmen." After seeing them play Crack the Skye front to back twice last year, it was a welcome departure to get some older songs.

Mastodon Set List: Naked Burn / Divinations / Oblivion / Crystal Skull / Colony of Birchmen / The Czar / Megalodon / Blood and Thunder

Deftones Set List: Rocket Skates / Around the Fur / Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) / My Own Summer (Shove It) / Diamond Eyes / You've Seen the Butcher / Sextape / Passenger / Change (In the House of Flies) / Birthmark / Engine No. 9 / 7 Words

Photos by Andrew Youssef, OC Weekly

The Besnard Lakes at Detroit Bar, 10/9/10

2010-12-27T15:10:00.000-08:00

Not a ton to say about this one, except that they were really good (if not quite as good as they were in May), cut back on the silly Canadian banter, and "Albatross" in particular blew my head off. Literally. You can click through for the set list, or you can go about your business.

Set List: Like the Ocean, Like the Innocent / Glass Printer / The Land of Living Skies / Disaster / Albatross / And This is What We Call Progress / And You Lied to Me

Photo courtesy of BeatCrave.com

Arcade Fire at the Shrine, 10/7/10

2010-12-27T15:08:00.000-08:00

I am what you could charitably call 'particular' (picky, fastidious, fussy all work as well) when it comes to my concert-going experience. I don't need to be front and center, but I do want to be close enough to see and hear the music in the way it's meant to be. The last time I had seen Arcade Fire, I left extremely disgruntled because of the poor seat I had at the Greek, off in the top row of the wings of the theatre, a place where sound goes to be distorted by the wind. My tickets for the Shrine were nosebleeders as well, so I was worried about a repeat performance. However, the band delivered a set that made me forget just how far away they were.

As you'll read about soon, The Suburbs is one of my favorite albums of this year, and I claimed Funeral as my favorite of the previous ten years, so I came expecting a lot. And the band delivered it handily, even while dealing with occasional bouts of sloppiness. The most notable was during the end of the main set, when lead singer Win Butler was so focused on being amongst the crowd that he lost his place in "Rebellion (Lies)," to the amusement of his bandmates. But even with that and a couple other missteps, it was a passionate, emotional night. Opening with the appropriately-titled "Ready to Start" and then going into "Month of May," the Arcade Fire equivalent of a punk song, Butler and company cranked the energy up high.

Though they didn't play much from their second album, Neon Bible, it was still an excellent set, including new favorites such as "Deep Blue" and "Modern Man," and old ones like "Crown of Love" and "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)." Kings of Leon, of all bands, recently made some very thinly veiled comments about the manic energy of the band's live show being contrived, and a good friend of mine made a similar--though less harsh--comment after seeing them, but I think it's a cynical reading of their approach. They are nothing if not sincere, both in their lyrics and their music, so why wouldn't their apparent joy be real as well? I know mine in their presence always is.

Setlist: Ready to Start / Month of May / Neighborhood #2 (Laika) / No Cars Go / Haiti / Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains) / Modern Man / Rococo / The Suburbs / The Suburbs (Continued) / Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) / Crown of Love / Deep Blue / Intervention / We Used To Wait / Neighborhood #3 (Power Out) / Rebellion (Lies)

Encore: Keep The Car Running / Wake Up

Photo by Kelly A. Swift, OC Register

The Futureheads at the Troubadour, 10/6/10

2010-12-18T19:06:00.000-08:00

Long distance relationships are hard. Not being able to see those you care about whenever you want is a strain, and it can make you want to just cut the cord to avoid the heartache. But if you're patient, you will be rewarded. The last time I got to see The Futureheads was in the summer of 2006, and at times the longing was almost too much to bear, but I'm glad I waited it out.

This band's live act is what initially turned me onto them, back at Coachella 2005, so it seemed particularly cruel that their lack of popularity in the States would prevent me from experiencing it for so long. But as they took the Troubadour stage it felt like no time had passed at all. They still spent maybe just a little too much time cracking wise between songs (to the grumbling irritation of a few around me who wanted them to get on with it), and they still had the same level of frenetic energy that's been one of their chief selling points from the beginning. They kicked it off with the title track from this year's awesome return to form, The Chaos, then boomeranged back to one of their earliest songs, "Decent Days and Nights."

They mostly ignored their middle two records, though we did get "Work is Never Done," a great showcase for sometime lead singer Ross Mallard and my personal favorite from This is Not the World. Usual lead singer Barry Hyde sounded great, and the layered backup vocals and harmonies that are the band's signature were in full effect. In the end, it seemed appropriate that they focused so much on the first and the last, since those two albums are the best examples of everything that makes them such a good band. My only complaint was the relative brevity of the set, but it was an exhilarating, throat-destroying night of singing along at the top of my lungs, a welcome return for one of my favorites.

Set List: The Chaos / Decent Days and Nights / Heartbeat Song / Meantime / Struck Dumb / Robot / I Can Do That / Sun Goes Down / Skip to the End / Work is Never Done / The Beginning of the Twist / Carnival Kids / Hounds of Love / Jupiter

Encore: Le Garage / The Connector / Man Ray

Photo by Max Ritter

Jon Spencer Blues Explosion at the Troubadour, 9/30/10

2010-12-18T16:21:00.000-08:00

When I was younger, I would often lament the retirement of the bands I liked, thinking it must be as final as a TV show's cancellation. These days, I've been around long enough to know that eventually they almost all come back (assuming they haven't died, of course). The Jon Spencer Blues Exxplosion were no exception. After going on hiatus in 2005, I finally got a chance to see them again at the end of September.

The first time remains one of my favorite shows ever, at Detroit Bar back in 2002, when the opening acts were Liars and some young start-ups called Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Just incredible from start to finish, and the fact that JSBX played so much from Plastic Fang (number twenty-something-or-other on my best of the decade list) had a lot to do with that, for me anyway. This time around they ignored it almost completely, only doing "She Said" during the encore, but my lack of familiarity with their other material did little to stifle my enjoyment of their barrage. Taking nary a break between songs, the band tore through over an hour of music, Spencer himself constantly talking up the band. It remains a crime that they never caught on the way some other, less worthy garage rock did, but they still throw it down with the best of them.

Photo by Melissa Esterby, LAist.com

The Black Keys at the Palladium, 9/27/10

2010-12-18T14:37:00.000-08:00

And we're back! Time to catch up on the many shows I've been to in the last three months, followed by all kinds of fun end-of-the-year content (lists and the like). In other words, this paragraph is basically saying Apres moi, le deluge...

The Black Keys are awesome. It's just true, so let's get it out there. I've always been incredibly impressed with their musical chops, lead singer Dan Auerbach's soulful voice, and their ability to fill up so much space with just a guitar and drums. On their latest album Brothers, however, they've added more keys, organ and bass than ever before, even going so far as to bring them along for the show. Not to sound like a hopeless traditionalist, but on this night the songs that Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney tackled by themselves just sounded better. That's not an indictment of the rest of the set, or even of the incredible album they put out this year. It just seems they still have to get used to sharing the stage with anyone but each other. Still, a great show as always.

Sidenote: I found it interesting the quality of celebrity that was at this show. Sandra Oh seemed exasperated with her date, but Spoon lead singer Britt Daniel was transfixed by the band (and endeared himself to me by having a cute but regular girl as his date). The most revealing person in attendance, though, had to be Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. If one of the modern gods of guitar rock is digging on your band, you must be doing something right.

Set List: Thickfreakness / Girl Is on My Mind / 10 A.M. Automatic / The Breaks / Stack Shot Billy / Busted / Act Nice & Gentle / Everlasting Light / Next Girl / Chop and Change / Howlin’ for You / Tighten Up / She’s Long Gone / Ten Cent Pistol / I’ll Be Your Man / Strange Times / I Got Mine

Encore: Too Afraid to Love You / Sinister Kid / Your Touch

Photo by David Hall, OC Register

Muse at Staples Center, 9/25/10

2010-10-12T09:46:00.000-07:00

While my personal life (school, moving, work, etc.) have kept me from writing anything here for a couple weeks, it hasn't stopped me from going to concerts. Though, since this blog is really just a hobby, one that doesn't pay me anything beyond the satisfaction of knowing that literally more than ten people read it, I guess this, too, is part of my personal life, so maybe I've just been lazy? Wait, where was I? Ah, yes. Muse.

I've liked Muse for a long time. My fan level is somewhere between "Track 3 on Showbiz is clearly their best song ever, though I suppose I wouldn't hate you for going with Track 6 on Origin of Symmetry" and "You mean they had songs before that 'Time is Running Out' song?" I've seen them a handful of times since 2004, and their live show has gotten more elaborate as their songs have become more grandiose, for better or worse. If the Viggo Mortenesen wannabe from the DirecTV ads had a concert tour, it would be this one. Opulence: they has it. It was only a matter of time, as their popularity grew, before they started playing enormous arenas like Staples, but after seeing them at Coachella I knew they could handle it.

I won't bore you with minute details of the setup, but suffice it to say it was a spectacle, a non-stop barrage of video screens, lights, lasers, smoke and sparkle. More importantly, they're ridiculously talented musicians, and frontman Matthew Bellamy seems to have a never-ending well of energy. They opened with the one-two punch of "Uprising" and "Resistance" from last year's The Resistance, and while I don't love that whole record, I do enjoy those songs, and it made for a great start. The set overall focused very heavily on newer material, never touching Showbiz and only choosing well-known tracks off anything before The Resistance. This is my only complaint, really: when a band becomes so popular, they inevitably play the hits and squeeze in some deep cuts from their latest where they can. This meant we got some new songs I quite like, such as "MK Ultra" and "Guiding Light," but it would have been nice to get a more balanced attack from some of the old records. (Note: the next night they did exactly that, playing "Bliss" and "Ruled By Secrecy." Not that I was there to hear it. Oh well.)

Playing for two hours with nary a break--though Bellamy did get a reprieve when bassist Chris Wolstenholme and drummer Dominic Howard strutted their stuff alone on the awesome "Helsinki Jam"--Muse accomplished what it set out to do, taking their big moment on the road to many more big moments and blowing us away. Even though I know the ticket prices will rise inexorably, as will the capacity of the venues they play, I'll keep going. I wouldn't want to miss how they plan to top this.

Set List: Uprising / Resistance / New Born / Supermassive Black Hole / MK Ultra / Hysteria / Nishe / United States of Eurasia / Feeling Good / Guiding Light / Helsinki Jam / Undisclosed Desires / Starlight / Plug In Baby / Time is Running Out / Unnatural Selection

Encore: Exogenesis: Symphony, Part 1: Overture / Stockholm Syndrome / Knights of Cydonia

Photos by Timothy Norris, LA Weekly

Phoenix and Grizzly Bear at the Hollywood Bowl, 9/18/2010

2010-09-25T17:13:00.000-07:00

After a brief respite, it was time to get back in the concert groove with an interesting show at the Bowl, one of the best venues in Southern California. Though I've never listened to their most recent album, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix, all the way through, this was the third time I'd seen them this year, so they must be doing something right. Grizzly Bear, on the other hand, is a band capable of great beauty and ponderous effort, sometimes within the same song, but I'd been told over and over that I needed to see them live to really appreciate what they do.

Before Grizzly Bear was Girls, a band in love with noisy guitars and many of the same 50's and 60's pop music that Joey Ramone and Jarvis Cocker have drawn from for years. When I caught some of their set at Coachella this year, I actually had to plug my ears at one point to save myself from the feedback onslaught, but on this night they took it easier on us. Though they only played for twenty-five minutes at most, it was a fun set, the band clearly enjoying themselves and trying to make a good impression. I'll be wanting to see them again.

After a frustratingly brief break between bands--curfew, lame--Grizzly Bear came on, starting with one of the standout tracks from last year's Veckatimest, "Southern Point." On record, many of their songs take a few listens to really grasp, but live there's a whole new immediacy that compensates for the sneaking suspicion I get that they're trying too hard. Take away some of the art house hangups I have, and you have an immensely talented band, with four members who can all sing (majority frontman Ed Droste especially) and play. Their vocal harmonies on songs like "While You Wait for the Others" and the insta-classic "Two Weeks" are nothing short of beautiful; I could probably listen to just those two songs on repeat all day. Just to beef things up even more, they brought Feist out to help on "Two Weeks," my favorite moment of the night. "Ready, Able" and "While You Wait for the Others" were similarly grand, as were all of the older songs I didn't know. It was a short set, but even the vastness of the Bowl couldn't hamper the intimacy and scope of what they were doing. People who'd been telling me to see them: you were right.

When it was time for Phoenix to start, they came out with hardly any lights or decorations, lead singer Thomas Mars' mere arrival on stage enough to make the packed house go crazy. Bookended by the band's two big hits, "Lizstomania" and "1901," the set started and ended really well, but they diverged in the middle from what I'd seen at Coachella and Outside Lands. After six or seven songs, they started playing an instrumental piece that was more exciting than most of the songs before it, with Mars (who doesn't play an instrument) strangely lying on his back near the front of the stage. Two lights slowly crawled up either side of the arch over the stage, and then a large screen came down, but the band stopped for a moment instead of wowing us with a big crescendo, and then played another instrumental song. All of the music was good, but it felt anti-climactic and hurt the momentum of the set. Finally they kicked into a full-fledged song again, and then played a darker, slower cut that was probably the best of the night. All in all a good performance, but the set list construction left something to be desired. Maybe I'll go out and pickup that album finally, but maybe not. It's kind of fun to have a live affair with a band instead of an all out musical relationship.

Photo by Armando Brown, Orange County Register

The Hold Steady at Detroit Bar, 8/25/10

2010-08-31T14:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes things just come together, no matter how bad they start out. I was supposed to see The Hold Steady at the El Rey in May, but that week brought an extra special surprise in the tiny, spiky and painful form of my first (and for the love of all that is good and decent and right in the world, hopefully last) kidney stone. When I saw this show announced I knew the universe was trying to even the score. The world's best bar band in a tiny bar twenty minutes from where I live? Yes, please.

This being one of my favorite bands aside, I was particularly intrigued about the live show post-Franz Nicolay, the keyboardist/backup vocalist extraordinaire who left before the most recent album, Heaven is Whenever. The recorded material noticeably suffered for his absence; would their performance? Um, no. It was strange not seeing him up there but the band sounded as great as ever, overcoming Detroit's less than optimal sound to lead the crowd through an expertly paced tour of their entire catalogue.

When guitarist Tad Kubler began softly strumming and lead singer/madman Craig Finn started talking about waking up in the 20's, an excited chorus of "Tell us how to start it!" rang out next to me (or maybe it was just the one drunk guy, but he was really loud). "You gotta start it with a positive jam!" Finn shouted shortly thereafter, starting at the beginning of it all, then jumping right into the classic riff of "Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night." By the time the pounding drums signalling "The Swish" started two songs later, we were worked up into a ridiculous frenzy, shouting right back at Finn as he name-checked members of The Band and Journey, living the nostalgia trip that these guys somehow never make tired.

I do not call Finn a madman lightly: he's a nonstop freak onstage, wildly gesturing, smiling, shouting asides that even he probably can't hear. During "Southtown Girls" he says "I'm a little bit surprised you didn't tell me there'd be three of you," a statement he punctuated this night with a classic 'what the fuck?' look. Because of his breathless delivery sometimes he falls behind the songs, but the band just plays an extra measure while he catches up. With 23 songs in an hour and a half, nary a break between them, his boundless energy was really impressive. And Kubler is completely underrated. The piano, the hooks and Finn's lyrics get a lot of attention, but Kubler's guitar is the key to everything. The Hold Steady is a guitar band--everything else is built around it. On surprise set-closer "Sweet Payne" he started the charge to the end with a tip-toeing riff before peeling off one last epic solo in a night full of them. I would have shouted for more, but I'd already sung myself hoarse.

Set List: Positive Jam / Chicago Seemed Tired Last Night / Hurricane J / The Swish / Rock Problems / Magazines / Constructive Summer / You Gotta Dance (With Who You Came to the Dance With) / Chips Ahoy! / Stuck Between Stations / Stevie Nix / Goin' on a Hike / Girls Like Status / Hot Soft Light / Barely Breathing / Your Little Hoodrat Friend / The Weekenders / Southtown Girls / Massive Nights / A Slight Discomfort

Encore: We Can Get Together / You Can Make Him Like You / Sweet Payne

Photo by Spencer Kornhaber, OC Weekly

The Bellrays at Spaceland, 8/21/10

2010-08-31T13:44:00.000-07:00

A lot of the bands I write about are fairly well known, successful groups, but not everyone makes it through. The Bellrays' biggest success so far has been selling their song "Revolution Get Down" for a Nissan Xterra commercial a few years ago (it was fairly ubiquitous; I can't find it online, but chances are you saw it if you watched TV in 2004). That's a shame, because they've been making damn fine music, 'punk rock & soul' as they call it, since the mid-90's. Almost two decades in, and they still tore up Spaceland last weekend.

There have been many lineup changes over the years--check out their biography for an amusingly perfunctory rundown--but the constant has always been the husband-wife duo of Bob Vennum and Lisa Kekaula, the nerdy white rocker and the fiery black wailer. Kekaula's voice is one of the best I've heard in rock, mixing attitude and a hell of a range. Someone once described them as AC/DC with Tina Turner singing lead, but I'd say toss in some MC5 and the Stooges to really have an idea. Their most recent album, Hard Sweet and Sticky, was a little bit of a letdown, but they came to Spaceland seemingly reinvigorated by the new rhythm section of bassist Justin Andres and drummer Stefan Litrownik, a couple of kids probably half Vennum and Kekaula's age.

Opening with the Motown-tinged "You're Sorry Now," the band started a little slow before tearing into "Changing Colors," the first track from their late 90's gem Let It Blast. "I got a maniac on my tail, I'd kill him if I could," Kekaula belted on Maniac Blues, two minutes of punk ferocity that officially started the moshing in front of the stage. A couple songs later she stepped down into the crowd, this short woman with enormous hair shoving men twice her size if they bumped her too hard. "I'm Coming Down" and "Infection," both from Hard Sweet and Sticky, put their studio versions to shame, Vennum invoking Angus Young with his one-legged strutting across the stage. Maybe the AC/DC comparison was more apt than I thought.

About halfway into their too-brief, fifty minute set, Kekaula announced they would be playing a bunch of new songs from their upcoming album Black Lightning, and amazingly she hit a whole 'nother level with her voice. Of the new batch, the title track was the best, riding a wicked riff in classic Bellrays fashion, but all of them sounded great, and made me very anxious for the record to come out. Then at the end, I had one of those moments that only exist at shows. They played "Voodoo Train," one of their best and a great call and response song for the audience, and the sweat flew and the arms pumped as we sang "All aboard!" and "Ride it!" In the middle of my euphoria my mind went to "Blues for Godzilla," if only because it's another of my favorites and, like "Voodoo Train," an album closer. Naturally, in such a small venue they could hear my thoughts above the din, and much to my disbelief she was soon singing "I'm a monster, with a fever!" I don't really remember the next three and a half minutes, but I remember the feeling.

Free Lions at Que Sera, 8/23/10

2010-08-24T23:43:00.000-07:00

A whole lot can happen in two years, even while feeling like it happened in an instant. Something that seemed like it might only be a lark can evolve into something formidable and real. It's hard to believe it's been two years, almost to the day, since Free Lions played their first show at the Good Hurt in Los Angeles, and harder still to believe it's been over a year since I wrote about a fleshed-out version of the band impressing at the Yost Theater in Santa Ana. What's not hard to believe, however, is that in the here and now Free Lions is a very good band, one that has grown into itself and then pushed outward for more.

Now, I could certainly be accused of a certain level of cronyism, or favoritism, or nepotism, or some such other ism because two of my closest friends are in this band. I get that, but regardless of one's tendency to look more favorably upon one's friends--and I am not one to mince words or hold back criticisms--there comes a point where good is good. Free Lions are good, and last night at Que Sera in Long Beach, they were very good. A constant issue during performances has been finding the right mix, and the night didn't start well with lead singer/guitarist Shayne Fee's amp dying during sound check, but as it turned out they sounded better than ever, all six members meshing to give the songs their proper due.

"Nirvana Song" started things off on a dark note, flowing perfectly into one of their best and oldest tunes, "It's OK," which set us up with the crashing bridge of just vocals and drums that only tease the actual sonic crescendo that comes on its heels. Trying something I hadn't seen from them before, the first four songs melded together without pause, before backup singer Jocelyn Fee took over lead duties for the cheerier "AD." Then we were treated to a new song, one that saw the pop influences of the band seep through to strong effect.

Of the eight songs they played, only two ("Astronaut Wife Depression" being the other) were holdovers from the original batch that debuted at The Good Hurt, and while they are still very good songs, it was exciting to hear so much growth in the newer material, in particular "Come on Back" and ""Flip Your Rig." If "Astronaut Wife Depression" is about a hopeful moment in a relationship, "Flip Your Rig" (which I'm almost positive is not referencing a deleted scene from Convoy) is about that relationship gone bad. Starting off with a bouncy but quiet guitar and Shayne's somewhat manic vocals, the emotion erupts with the chorus of "'Cause I don't want you no more!" It hits hard but is over quick, making it a great closer and a nice microcosm of the entire set, which left me wanting more.

Set List: Nirvana Song / It's OK / Astronaut Wife Depression / Come on Back / AD / New Song / River Song / Flip Your Rig

My Morning Jacket at the Greek Theater, 8/12/10

2010-08-22T10:04:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was lucky enough to see one of the best live bands around twice in three days, first at the Greek in LA, and then in San Francisco at the Outside Lands festival two days later. Since I'll have a full rundown of my weekend in Golden Gate Park coming up, I'm not going to spend too much time on this show, but I do have some thoughts on why I may avoid the Greek like the plague going forward.

Let me start by saying that I've always loved the Greek. I've seen (among others) Arcade Fire, Wilco, Silversun Pickups, Kings of Leon, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, The Flaming Lips and even My Morning Jacket there in the past, and it's always been a generally good experience. It's a beautiful setting, and as long as you don't get stuck in the terrace seating on the sides, the sound is usually great everywhere. I say 'usually' because the last few times I've gone it's been getting quieter and quieter, to the point of ridiculousness.

I understand that the venue is right in the middle of a residential neighborhood, and that's why it has such a strict curfew, something I've learned to prepare for over time. The time on the ticket is absolutely the time the first band is going to play. But if you're going to turn the volume down lower than I play my stereo at home or in the car, that's a problem. I didn't notice it the week before at Silversun Pickups because I was sitting a lot closer, but this time, even sitting in the middle of the amphitheater where the sound is usually great, the band was not nearly loud enough. My Morning Jacket is known for its explosive live shows, but on this night they started slower with "At Dawn," "Golden" and "It Beats 4 U" before cranking it up with the steadily accelerating "Gideon," the ending of which is one of the band's best moments. Unfortunately, it seemed that whenever the whole band came together to jam out--see photo above for their standard position in front of Patrick Callahan's drum kit--the sound guys would turn it down just a bit, so the instruments were combining to drown each other out, rather than lift each other up. What should have been an exhilarating head-long dive into the heart of the set was rendered a slow jog, shouts of "Turn it up!" easily rising above the music.

Most maddening of all is how clear it was that the band was in top form. Jim James' voice was clear and strong, and Carl Broemel's guitar shredded away. (For a much better review of the actual performance, go read Soundcheck's Ben Wener.) It wasn't until the crescendo of "Dancefloors" about halfway through the show that the volume was allowed to inch up, but even then it was all relative. I hate to complain overmuch about an excellent performance by one of my favorites, but I wasn't the only one taken out of the moment; people all around me were grumbling and/or reverting to conversation. In the end, it was almost two hours of great music, served up half-cooked and under-seasoned, and that is a shame. Damn you, The Greek. Damn you.

Set List: At Dawn / Golden / It Beats 4 U / Gideon / Anytime / Mahgeeta / War Begun / Circuital (new) / Where to Begin / Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Pt. 1 / Dancefloors / Tonight I Want to Celebrate with You / Wonderful (new) / Dondante / I'm Amazed / Highly Suspicious / Smokin from Shootin / Run-Thru (jam and final chorus only) / Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Pt. 2

Encore: Wordless Chorus / One Big Holiday

Photo by Kelly A. Swift, OC Register

Against Me! and Silversun Pickups at the Greek Theater, 8/6/10

2010-08-09T08:38:00.000-07:00

After giving my ears a couple weeks off from the sounds of pounding drums, screeching guitars and the like, it was right back into the fold with two newer bands (for me, anyway): Against Me! and Silversun Pickups. It was a strange match, despite my fondness for both, so I was eager to see how it would be received. As it turns out, pretty well.

For Silversun Pickups, this was a triumphant homecoming; for Against Me!, a chance to showcase a new version of themselves for an expanded audience. The latter went first (just after The Henry Clay People, who I missed), and because of the Greek's strict curfew they went on at the unfashionably early time of 8:05. But despite the many empty seats, the band still put on a hell of a show. Lead singer Tom Gabel bounced around behind his microphone, alternating between a smile and a snarl, depending on the song. Against Me! has evolved into a much catchier hook machine, and they played a large portion of their new album, White Crosses, starting with "High Pressure Low."

They still found space for some older songs, including "Don't Lose Touch" and "Sink, Florida, Sink," but mostly they stuck to newer material in the twelve song set. From where I was, the only real complaints were the guitars not being loud enough in the mix, and the band not playing "Spanish Moss," only the best song, but also one I feel would have completely grabbed a crowd that was about half into it, and half politely interested. Not that surprising, given the difference in sounds (and popularity) of the two bands, but that and the exclusion of semi-radio hit "Stop" seemed like a mistake. One other thing of note: former Hold Steady keyboardist Franz Nicolay has apparently joined Against Me! on tour, if not permanently, which is interesting. When he left, he alluded to wanting to move on from big, anthemic rock, but White Crosses sounds more like The Hold Steady than their own most recent album did. (Hmm, I smell a future post topic...)

Silversun Pickups had no such crowd issues. They were very much the home team, being from Silverlake, and the packed house went crazy when they came out on stage. They smiled and acknowledged us, then went into the slow-building "Growing Old is Getting Old," from last year's Swoon, a song that culminates in a burst of noisy guitar that led perfectly into "Well Thought Out Twinkles." After a few songs, lead singer Brian Aubert took a moment to apologize for the "glee that is fucking coming out of our pores. We're a little excited." The one-two punch of "There's No Secrets This Year" and "The Royal We" was wisely played together, possibly getting the biggest non-single reaction from the crowd.

To be fair, though, the crowd stood almost the entire time, and it did not go unnoticed. Late in the set, Aubert again started waxing about being on the Greek stage. "I see you guys trying to sneak into the pit. I was that guy. Keep trying, you'll get in there eventually!" He then pointed out to the tree line all around the amphitheater, declaring "I know you people in the trees! We've been the tree people! We never thought it would kind of end up here." His excitement, gratitude and sincerity were all very winning, and you couldn't help but be excited for them. The end of the main set saw them explode into their two biggest hits, "Panic Switch" and "Lazy Eye," the song that started this whole ride. It may have preempted some thunder from their encore, but it was a great sequence, looking around to see thousands of smiling faces shouting the words back at the stage. Silversun Pickups took their big moment and rocked it convincingly; I'm glad I was there to experience it firsthand.

Against Me! Set List: High Pressure Low / Pints of Guinness Make You Strong / Thrash Unreal / White Crosses / Up the Cuts / I Was a Teenage Anarchist / Bamboo Bones / Suffocation / New Wave / Don't Lose Touch / Rapid Decompression / Sink, Florida, Sink

Silversun Pickups Set List: Growing Old is Getting Old / Well Thought Out Twinkles / Sort Of / Little Lover's So Polite / There's No Secrets This Year / The Royal We / Future Foe Scenarios / It's Nice to Know You Work Alone / Kissing Families / Catch & Release / Panic Switch / Lazy Eye

Encore: Substitution / Common Reactor

Photos by Kevin Winter/Getty Images

The Dead Weather at the Palladium, 7/21/10

2010-08-07T20:34:00.000-07:00

My concert extravaganza--three shows in three nights--finished on an extremely strong note with The Dead Weather. I raved about them last summer, and rightly so, but a lot of that was the excitement of something new. This time around, they had a second record worth of material to choose from and a year of touring together under their collective belt. The result was a band that has more than come into its own.

I want to call them a "dirty blues" outfit, but I think that's a bit misleading. It's more like the blues filtered through a hard (and I do mean 'hard') rock sound, anchored by the slinky danger of frontwoman Allison Mosshart. Oh, and Jack White's in the band too, banging hell out of his drum kit, and if he seemed a little raw the first time through, now he's a force back there, crashing away with equal parts abandon and precision.

The setlist was front-loaded with songs from last year's debut Horehound, with "60 Feet Tall" taking its time to get to guitarist Dean Fertita's calamitous solos, and "Hang You From the Heavens" priming the crown with a song they knew. At this point White made his way out to the front of the stage, and after introducing 'Ulysses S. Grant' and uttering some strong words about someone's plan ("Probably your fucking governor!") to put Ronald Reagan on the $50 bill, he sang a killer rendition of Them's "You Just Can't Win." As great as Mosshart is, she doesn't have the built-in fanbase of White, and the crowd predictably went crazy for him.

A few songs later they dove into a batch of the new material with the ominous keyboard of "Die by the Drop," and the intensity level went way up. For a four piece they make a hell of a racket, and the chorus of "I'm gonna take you for worse or better!"--even being screamed by Mosshart and White--just barely clawed its way over the thunderous music. The four song stretch made up the strongest part of the set, with the (appropriately) insane-sounding "I'm Mad" standing out as a particular highlight. Starting with a little jazz beat and Mosshart declaring the title and laughing, it shifts halfway through with an almost organ-like guitar part, before coming back down at the end.

The last song of the main set was "Will There Be Enough Water?" which saw bassist Jack Lawrence switch to drums and White come back out on guitar for a duet. While he and Mosshart paced around and pressed up into each other, my mind unexpectedly went to White's wife, Karen Elson. How could she possibly be comfortable with him performing every night with someone that he shares such a strong sexual energy? But White is a musician first and a showman right after that, and however real the chemistry is, he must know it makes for a powerful moment. As they sang into each other's faces without the help of the microphone, even the typical LA chattiness couldn't stop me from getting the chills.

Set List: 60 Feet Tall / Hang You From the Heavens / You Just Can't Win (Them cover) / So Far From Your Weapon / I Cut Like a Buffalo / No Horse / A Child of a Few Hours is Burning to Death (West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band cover) / Die by the Drop / The Difference Between Us / I'm Mad / Hustle and Cuss / New Pony / Will There Be Enough Water?

Encore: Blue Blood Blues / Gasoline / I Can't Hear You / Treat Me Like Your Mother

Photos by David Hall, OC Register

Obits and The Night Marchers at Alex's Bar, 7/20/10

2010-08-07T15:58:00.000-07:00

I went into this show meaning to focus more on Obits, since I'd never seen them before, and I already did a lengthy review on the Night Marchers back in November. But between Obits playing a bunch of new stuff that sucked me in and Speedo messing up the momentum of the Night Marchers set by overdoing the banter, I don't have a ton to say about either. Brief thoughts to follow, if you please...

Not for nothing, but I was really excited about this one. I feel that way about every show, true, but when you offer up a bill that puts all the members of Hot Snakes in one room, all of whom are currently playing for bands I really like, well, I might develop some expectations. Not just for the reunion that never happened (at least not until a later show at the Casbah in San Diego, which I should have anticipated, Hot Snakes being from there), but for the new bands too. Obits completely delivered, despite quickly foiling any attempt at keeping a set list by playing a bunch of new material; the Night Marchers, not so much.

Obits first: combining lead singer Rick Froberg's noise punk tendencies with extra melody, intentionally old-sounding production and some rockabilly and surf guitar, Obits put out one of the best albums of last year in I Blame You, along with two awesome non-album singles. Unfortunately, they didn't play much of those songs on this night, only offering up "Widow of My Dreams," "Fake Kinkade," "Two-Headed Coin" and "SUD" among the twelve or so they played. However, the new songs all sounded great, and the band played well. Rick's voice sounded great, and other guitarist Sohrab Habibion (whom is very interactive on the band's Facebook page; click through to read his amusing response to my comments about the Hot Snakes mini reunion) put on a subtle show while also singing a killer new song. I was in already, but now I'm really eager to hear some more recordings from these guys.

The Night Marchers, on the other hand, had some problems. Or at least, I felt like they did. They're a tight band, so the actual playing was top notch as usual, but lead singer Speedo seemed to be in a bad mood, and he spent long interludes between songs rambling about weird stuff. Look, of all the bands associated with he and Froberg (Drive Like Jehu, Pitchfork and The Sultans, in addition to Hot Snakes), the Speedo-fronted Rocket from the Crypt is easily my favorite, and part of what made them so much fun to see was his irreverent humor and enthusiasm. I've seen him perform somewhere around twenty times, so I know and love what he does, but on this night he just pushed it too far and killed the momentum of an otherwise strong set, one full of new songs that sounded like an improvement over the debut album, See You in Magic. And I'll never complain about hearing "Scene Report," "Jump in the Fire" or "Closed for Inventory." On this night, though, Obits was the better band. And there's no shame in that.

Tool at Nokia Theater, 7/19/10

2010-08-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

Not many bands can be said to have a unique sound. Everything sounds like bits and pieces of everything else, and that's just fine. Necessary, even. Some of my favorite bands are the least original ones, like The Hold Steady, who take an idea, a sound that's been around, and play it better than anyone. But when you get a band that takes their influences, mixes it with their own talents and creates something impressive and original, well, that's fairly incredible. From where I'm sitting (on a dinner table chair next to my bed, for the record), that band is Tool.

Anyone who read my decade's best countdown knows that I hold Tool up pretty high, but despite that, I'd only ever seen them at Coachella, four years ago. They're almost the musical equivalent of Haley's Comet, only putting out a new album every five years or so, and touring sporadically. Somehow I've always managed to bungle my opportunities to catch one of their concerts, but this time I jumped at the chance, shelling out an almost absurd amount of money. It was worth every cent though. They may not move around much on stage, but the sounds they make are captivating.

The band came out in typical formation: guitarist Adam Jones and bassist Justin Chancellor flanking the stage, with drummer Danny Carey on a riser between and behind them. Singer Maynard James Keenan took up his customary position to Carey's right, slinking around behind the action. Dressed in a cop uniform, complete with ridiculous mustache, Maynard didn't spend much time speaking to the audience between songs, but his voice was strong as usual, even if he noticeably held back in a couple spots. After an image of Timothy Leary appeared behind the stage, telling us to "question authority; think for yourself," the band started off with "Third Eye," perhaps their longest song and a fitting opener with its twists and changes. Also, the lyric "So good to see you, I've missed you so much" could be taken as a 'welcome back' to the fans, if one were inclined to think Tool was that sentimental.

Throughout the night there were very few moments of silence, with Jones and Chancellor combining on musical transitions between songs, both from the albums and some I'd never heard. On "Stinkfist" Jones tweaked his guitar on the first two verses just enough to give the song a new angle, and the bridge of "Schism" was played ultra sped-up before being brought back around again at normal speed. I really can't say enough how impressive their sound is, mostly coming from three people (Maynard occasionally added some keyboard/synth action). I've always been prone to rave about Jones' guitar playing, but Chancellor's bass is the key to everything, straddling the line between backbone and lead. And if there's a better drummer than Carey, I'd love to hear him; the man's ability to switch time signatures so often is crazy.

The set was a nice a la carte of their entire catalogue, taking three songs each from the three most recent records, plus a nice treat in "Intolerance," from 1993's Undertow. Maynard introduced that song with a weird monologue about Back to the Future that was as amusing as it was hard to follow, and it made up the bulk of his speaking to the audience. After the main set the sound of helicopters pulsated in the theater, slowing getting louder until the band came back to play my favorite song, the epic "Lateralus," and "Ænema," which Maynard dedicated to all of us "politically informed Hollywood types" before singing about California sinking into the sea. We didn't take it personally though; as long as he keeps making music this good, he can hate us all he likes.

Setlist: Third Eye / Jambi / (-) Ions / Stinkfist / Vicarious / Intension / Eon Blue Apocalypse / The Patient / Intolerance / Schism / The Pot

Encore: Lateralus / Ænema

Photos by Andrew Youssef, OC Weekly

Concert Roundup: Roky Erickson, LCD Soundsystem

2010-08-05T01:13:00.000-07:00

Hello! This place has been a ghost town for too long, and I actually have concerts and other things to share with you from the past couple weeks, but I'm so OCD about chronology that I have to say a few things about a couple shows that deserved longer thoughts from a less distracted person. But, they got me, as do you, and that's just how it is. So kicking off my return are some truncated reactions to things that happened quite a while ago...

Roky Erickson and Okkervil River at the Music Box, 5/18/10

Roky is a bit of a legend, what with his spotty recording history and mental issues, and I had already flubbed a chance to see him a few years back at Coachella, so this was exciting. I had reservations about his collaboration with Okkervil River, about their Americana sound meshing with his, but those turned out to be wildly unfounded. From the opening salvo of "Night of the Vampire" it was clear that they loved his music and were more than capable of bringing the rock.

The set did a nice job of going back and forth from his older material to their album together, True Love Cast Out All Evil. Okkervil River frontman Will Sheff stood to Roky's right, a goofy grin plastered on his face almost the entire night, and (awesome) guitarist Lauren Gurgiolo handled most of the lead parts. For his part, Roky didn't address the audience and actually stood with his profile to us most of the time, looking to Sheff and Gurgiolo to lead the way, though he did get to do some of the solos, and only miffed the lyrics once that I noticed. Given his rough history--being institutionalized, receiving shock treatment--we could forgive his awkwardness onstage and just be happy to be treated to such a rousing show.

Set list: Night of the Vampire / Two Headed Dog / Bring Back the Past / Don't Slander Me / Forever / Stand for the Fire Demon / Ooh! My Soul / John Lawman / Be and Bring Me Home / True Love Cast Out All Evil / I Walked With a Zombie / Goodbye Sweet Dreams / Starry Eyes / Reverberation

Encore: You're Gonna Miss Me

LCD Soundsystem at the Fox Theater, 6/5/10

If you follow along here, you know that I just saw James Murphy and company at Coachella in April, but this was different. First, it was a headlining show, so they could play a full set the way they wanted. Secondly, the Fox Theater is both awesome and enclosed, which made for a more intimate and much louder experience. All that said, the set was very similar, just more filled out; they still started with "Us V Them" and "Drunk Girls," but both songs sounded better in the smaller confines, and Murphy was noticeably more sober (less drunk?). He made a point of welcoming everyone from "the greater Pomona area," but his banter was much more focused, and his voice sounded great, as usual. Singing into his trademark microphone, Murphy bled out on the stage one second and bounced around it the next.

The set ranged all over their catalogue, and while I could have done without "Yr City's a Sucker," "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" and especially the synthy groove of "Tribulations" and the dance-punk rave "Movement" became something else altogether when given the live treatment. In their original form, all those songs lack the punch of some of his later recordings, but the live drums and guitar gave them new vitality. The floor of the Fox did not lack for sweat, and "Yeah" only added to it.

For the encore, they brought it back down a bit with my second favorite song, "Someone Great," then ended with "New York I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down," which included a brief verse of "Empire State of Mind." But despite the overall excellence of the whole thing, in particular the end of the main set, once again the part that stood out the most to me was "All My Friends," which caused me to dance and sing unreservedly, and so hard that I felt near to passing out by the last lines. LCD Soundsystem is a very good band, and Murphy a fantastic frontman, but that song is almost eight minutes of greatness, and hearing it in its best, purest form is the kind of thing I live for.

Set List: Us V Them / Drunk Girls / Yr City's a Sucker / Pow Pow / Daft Punk is Playing at My House / All My Friends / I Can Change / Tribulations / Movement / Yeah

Encore: Someone Great / Losing My Edge / New York I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down

LCD Soundsystem photo by David Hall, OC Register. Crappy Roky Erickson photo by me. Desert photo by the Internet, c/o Google Images.

The Besnard Lakes at the Troubadour, 5/13/10

2010-05-29T21:25:00.000-07:00

Most of what I write on here pertains to live music, and very little of it is negative. I'd like to think I can be objective, but honestly, I love it too much sometimes to be able to step back and call it like it is. Don't get me wrong, I'm sincere in my praise, but much like how food tastes great when you're hungry, regardless of the actual quality, I have such an appetite for the experience of a show that it becomes varying degrees of awesome, not a question of good or bad. The best, though, is the first time I get to see a band with which I've recently fallen into a torrid affair. It's one thing to listen to an album (or albums) over and over, but another thing altogether to see it brought to life. That was where I found myself a couple weeks ago at the Troubadour.

I know it's just coming up on June, but The Besnard Lakes are the Roaring Night is my early leader for record of the year. It has a psychedelic vibe, swirling guitars acting almost as background noise for the high, soaring vocals of lead singers/married couple Jace Lasek and Olga Goreas. Until it's time for a solo, that is, and then the Besnard Lakes really show off their chops. Live it was no different, though Lasek's guitar needed to be louder (look, I can be negative!), and the band did allow itself to get sidetracked by all the lame Canadian jokes the crowd kept making. "Wayne Gretzky!" "Maple syrup!" It made for a funny evening when they bantered back, but it did hurt the momentum of the show in a couple places.

But other than those few moments of distraction, the band played their epic songs with power and enthusiasm. "Like the Ocean, Like the Innocent" opened the show with almost ten minutes of slowly building force, culminating in the first of many memorable solos. The songs tend to have a similar structure, with a slower beginning leading to a mixture of Lasek's and Goreas' paired vocals guiding the guitars to a climax, oftentimes stopping right when you think they're about to shred some more. There's something to be said for a formula that's working, though, and each song is its own thing. Lasek has a strong, high voice, and Goreas can only be said to sing beautifully. Other highlights were "The Land of Living Skies" (my personal favorite), "And You Lied to Me," "Devastation" and "Light Up the Night." They only played twelve songs, leaving me wanting more, but they proved they were more than just a studio creation. The first time was great, if not flawless, and I'm excited for the next.

Set List: Like the Ocean, Like the Innocent / Devastation / For Agent 13 / Glass Printer / Chicago Train / Light Up the Night / Albatross / And This is What We Call Progress / Disaster / And You Lied to Me

Encore: The Land of Living Skies / Thomasina

Photo courtesy of BeatCrave.com

Coachella 2010, Day 1: Oh, the humanity!

2010-04-28T11:05:00.000-07:00

It's April, and for me that means one thing: Coachella. After being drawn to the desert in 2004 by Radiohead and the Pixies, I've been every year since. As I like to say, it's the greatest weekend of my life and it happens every year. That may be a bit hyperbolic, but only a bit. Nowhere else can I see so many bands all in the same place, and it's more or less guaranteed to surprise me. This year was no different, though it did get off to a rocky start. In the days leading up to the festival Goldenvoice had announced that the festival was sold out, and that the number of tickets sold was 75,000, the most I can remember in the seven years I've been going. So I anticipated a lot of people, but what I encountered was another thing entirely.

Coachella 2010 was different from previous years for me, in that each day had two or three bands I absolutely had to see, and then a whole bunch of bands I was interested in, wanted to check out for curiosity's sake, or or had been told by others to give a try. So on Friday, the first day, my group tried to head to the venue early enough to dip our toes into a few different bands. After a slow crawl into the parking lot, we headed to the line to get in around 2:15, feeling like we were making good time. Sure, the line was crazy long, but it certainly couldn't take longer than a half hour to get in, right? Little did we know, but that line was gonna be our home for the foreseeable future. See, this was the first year of only three-day passes, so the plan was to scan everyone's ticket and give them a wristband to wear for the whole weekend. The only problem with this plan was Goldenvoice's apparent inability to make enough of these available. Somehow, they ran out of wristbands at the entrance where we were waiting, something that should have never happened. To make matters worse, the ticket scanners broke, so even once they had more wristbands, they had no way to account for everyone, and rather than just tearing tickets and keeping them, they let us rot in line.

Please don't misunderstand me, I can accept that things go wrong, even if the wristband shortage is something that should have been figured out logistically before anyone got there. Even the lack of people to check tickets and bags can be explained away as a slip-up, and the scanners breaking is probably no one's fault. But what really irked me, and everyone else in line, was the complete failure of anyone working the venue--not security, not the people in the yellow volunteer shirts, fucking nobody--to come out into the crowd to tell us what was going on. Everything I heard about this SNAFU came from people who had ventured up to the front to ask. So there we stood, the eighty degree weather approaching one hundred in that sweaty sea of angry humanity, wondering if this was really what we paid $300 to do. At one point, after we'd been there for close to two hours with nary a forward step, my friend turned to me and said, "Brian, what was life like before The Line?" Finally they brought more people to tear tickets the old fashioned way, and after another (thankfully brief) line to check our bags and backpacks, we were in. All it took was two and a half hours.

At this point many of the early bands I had wanted to see were already done, and my only concern was to find some water and a schedule to figure out the plan going forward. Water acquired, we headed to the beer garden near the tents to ease the pain and wait for Ra Ra Riot to start in the Mojave. Walking to the opposite end of the venue, it dawned on me just how many people were there. I've been to Coachella when it sold out before, but I've never seen it so packed at five. Getting from one place to another required complex geometry just to navigate the human traffic going in every direction, and the beer garden hit capacity shortly after we walked in. But beers in hand, we were happier, and ready to really start our Coachella.

Ra Ra Riot, Mojave Tent, 5:35

If it feels like I've written an awful lot in this concert review without actually talking about any live music, yeah, well, it took a while. But finally we were seeing an actual band, and it didn't take long to switch from angry consumer mode to Coachella guy mode, even if the first band we saw wasn't one I was excited about. I went to Ra Ra Riot because my girlfriend wanted to check them out, but I was unfamiliar. For some reason I assumed they were British based solely on their name, but when lead singer Wes Miles started talking that theory was quickly debunked. With a standard bass-guitar-drums set up augmented by a cello and violin, they were the perfect light and breezy cure for how I was feeling. They didn't sound exactly like them, but they kept reminding me of Belle & Sebastian, and that was a good thing. Sound problems kept them from making the impact they might have, but I enjoyed it, and it felt like I was finally there.

She & Him, Outdoor Theatre, 5:45

After five or six songs at Ra Ra Riot, it was time to get out of the muggy Mojave and move on to a band I actually knew, She & Him. M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel's indie folk sounded like an ideal match for the Outdoor Theatre, and a good place to relax for a bit. When we got there it was pretty packed, though we soon learned that was the case everywhere. I enjoy She & Him, but one problem with them is the tendency of their charming, pretty, country-tinged songs to blend together, and that was even more evident in the open space here. I quickly realized that I was wrong, they should have been in a tent to hold their sound in and give it more immediacy. But I did get to hear my favorite song, "This is Not a Test," and Deschanel's vocals sounded as great as they do on the records. M. Ward took over during the end of the set, singing Chuck Berry's "Roll Over Beethoven," and it finally got the crowd really going, but it also highlighted the difference in energy from their own songs. When just the two of them came back on to do an encore (unheard of at mid-day Coachella, but made possible by the handful of cancellations caused by the Icelandic volcano), they opted for "I Put a Spell On You," but that too was a miss. That song needs to sound dangerous and aggressive to be effective, but Zooey opted for sultry, and it just didn't work. In the end, it felt like they lingered just a little too long, and I left thinking they would be better served in a smaller venue like the Fonda or El Rey. It's ok Zooey, you're still adorable!

With nothing coming up immediately that I wanted to see, it was time to drink some more. What? That line was stressful. This particular beer garden wasn't nearly as packed as the first one we'd been to, though lines were still long everywhere you looked. Passion Pit came on next door at the Outdoor Theatre, but I had energy for little more than sitting and drinking. Soon, though, the feeling that I would miss something if I didn't get moving again kicked in, and we made our way to the Coachella Stage to see the first of my must-see bands for the weekend: Them Crooked Vultures.

Them Crooked Vultures, Coachella Stage, 7:50

I've raved/written about these guys before, but it really must be said again: this is a hell of a band. Every year there are inevitable conflicts on the schedule, and this year Friday had a doozy. Do I see Them Crooked Vultures, who I know are gonna kill on the main stage, or do I go see Grizzly Bear, the critical darlings whose album I half-love, in the Mojave and hope their reportedly transcendent live show translates out here in the desert? While disappointing, ultimately it wasn't much of a choice--I followed the songs, and that led me to Josh Homme, Dave Grohl and John Paul Jones. As with their show in LA in November, they opened it up with "No One Loves Me & Neither Do I," a song that quite literally explodes in the second half after a rather standard classic rock-sounding opening. Not surprisingly, the crowd approved. Then they went into "Dead End Friends," a faster track, and the people were theirs. When introducing the band, lead singer Homme introduced Jones as being "on every instrument known to man," and the audience certainly knew they were watching a rock--hell, music--legend based on their reaction. "I'm Josh and you know me; I live here. It's great to have you in my home, Coachella!"

Homme seemed to take extra pleasure in his home-field advantage, and he sounded every bit as good as he does on the record, hitting the highs and lows throughout the whole set. They opened up a couple songs, notably "Scumbag Blues," giving Jones a bass solo and a deserved spotlight. On a personal note, they played perhaps my favorite from the album, "Gunman," calling it a dance number (which backed up my claim in that earlier review that it was 'evil disco'), and "Spinning in Daffodils" was much more effective than the recorded version, featuring a dark and captivating piano solo from Jones. Since they weren't the headliners they didn't have a big time slot, so they were limited to eight songs, but they closed on a high note with their two singles, "Mind Eraser, No Chaser" and "New Fang." The crowd wasn't as large as perhaps they deserved, what with Grizzly Bear and Echo & the Bunnymen playing at the same time, but those of us there knew we'd made the right choice.

Set List: No One Loves Me & Neither Do I / Dead End Friends / Scumbag Blues / Gunman / Caligulove / Spinning in Daffodils / Mind Eraser, No Chaser / New Fang

Because we thought there might still be time, my friends and I sacrificed our good spot for LCD Soundsystem and rushed over to the Mojave to try to catch the end of Grizzly Bear. As it turned out we only caught the last two songs, but one of them was their second-best song, "While You Wait for the Others," so it wasn't a total loss. The song climaxes with all four members harmonizing almost a cappella while the music slowly swells in the background; hearing it live sealed my fate as far as seeing them again. No "Two Weeks," but nobody's that lucky. A little disappointed, but happy we at least got to see part of it, we headed back over to the main stage to try to find another good spot.

LCD Soundsystem, Coachella Stage, 9:05

Finally, here was one of my most anticipated performances of the weekend. LCD Soundsystem released one of my top five albums of the previous decade, and the only time I'd ever seen them was before I even knew how much I loved it. I was a little worried that their sound might not carry well enough on the main stage, and maybe I wasn't alone; lead singer/mastermind James Murphy talked about how they weren't used to being a "main course" at the festival: "Usually we're the mixed nuts over on the other side," referring to the Sahara dance tent. Not screwing around, they started with the almost ten minute "Us V Them" to get us all in a dancing mood, but I could already tell that they were a mismatch for the stage. They played well, Murphy's voice was strong, but with the winds and the wide open spaces, a lot of the little things got lost, and it felt like there were gaps in the music. Next was "Drunk Girls, " a new song, and it fared a little better because it's heavier on the guitar and keyboards. I'm not gonna lie, I'm in possession of a leaked copy of the forthcoming album This is Happening, and "Drunk Girls" was not one of my early favorites, but here it had an added energy and depth that made it more than just the silly detour I thought it was. Other new tracks they played were "Pow Pow" and standout "I Can Change," which was one of the best songs of their set. Throughout the day I'd been running into people I knew much more frequently than usual at Coachella, so I couldn't help but add some significance to "All My Friends," the obvious highlight and crowd pleaser of the set. Or maybe I'm biased, since it's one of my favorite songs.

Throughout the set Murphy squandered precious time with goofy banter, sometimes talking into songs with no transition, but he was nothing if not amusing and enthusiastic. After "Pow Pow" he realized they were running out of time, and announced to the crowd that they had three songs left on the set list but would only be able to do one. As the people booed, Murphy responded, "No, fuck that! We're here to have fun! Ok, we're gonna do 'New York'--no, fuck that! We're gonna do 'Yeah!'" And "Yeah" they did, bringing the damn house down, probably the one moment in the set when they truly conquered the main stage. "Yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!" Murphy shouted over and over again, and we shouted along like crazy people, dancing and jumping and losing our shit. Sensing the victory, Murphy asked for six more minutes, and the band closed with the atypical (for them, anyway) piano ballad "New York, I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down," which crescendos with an epic guitar solo, a big rock moment for a band that maybe was playing a little against type, but ultimately did it very well.

Set List: Us V Them / Drunk Girls / Losing My Edge / All My Friends / I Can Change / Pow Pow / Yeah / New York, I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down

Sometime during the end of the set, my friends splintered off, so I wandered over to the Outdoor Theatre to get some water. Vampire Weekend was on, and I've been pretty vocal in my distaste for them, so I didn't fancy dealing with the likely huge crowd I was going to encounter over there, but I was thirsty and it was the closest one. Fate intervened, as it so often does at Coachella, and I ran into three more of my friends immediately after buying my water. After being the recipient of an enthusiastic (drunken?) triple hug and cheer, they talked me into following them to Vampire Weekend. Not to get all Jerry Orbach in Dirty Dancing here, but I can admit when I'm wrong, and Vampire Weekend proved me wrong, on this night anyway. I saw them here two years ago and I thought it was boring as hell, but playing to a much larger crowd, they had a different energy and confidence. I still don't have any desire to buy their records, but for seven songs they entertained me, and that was more than I ever would have expected from them and their indie pop sound. When they were done, my friends all headed to the main stage to find a spot for Jay-Z, but I'm not a rap guy, to say the least, so I wandered off on my own for a bit, waiting for Public Image Limited to start.

Public Image Limited, Outdoor Theatre, 11:20

Having been told by my friend Spencer to check these guys out, this was the perfect alternative to Jay-Z and the droves of people he was going to attract. I'd had my fill of crowds for the day, and anyway, who wouldn't want to check out Johnny Rotten's other band? This was actually not my first time seeing him, as one of my earliest concerts was the Sex Pistols' Filthy Lucre reunion tour, but I was amazed by how little he seemed to have aged in fourteen years. Yeah, he looked scary, but that was the case back then as well. "Jay-Z giving you a headache? Take a PiL!" he announced as he took the stage to laughs and applause. However, he did manage to keep his banter relatively light and simple throughout the set, letting the music speak for itself. And boy, did it ever. In many ways you could view PiL as an earlier incarnation of LCD Soundsystem: dance rock written as rock and roll. The bass and the drums carry the day, but the guitar was formidable as well, and I was impressed by the amount of sound a three piece band like them was creating. They opened with "This is Not a Love Song," and anyone like me who was merely curious was sold. Rotten, or John Lydon as he prefers to go by, still has a powerful wail, and he moved in a strangely mechanical way that fit the music perfectly. If I'd had any energy left at the end of a long day, I'd have been dancing, but I contented myself with rocking in place. After seeing two of my favorite bands only hours before, PiL closed out the night with one of those unexpectedly great sets you can always count on finding at Coachella. Happy and exhausted, I wandered toward the meeting point to collect everybody and go rest up for day 2.

Photos by losanjealous.com, OC Register and me

More Than Alright

2010-04-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

On Monday, the music world suffered a loss that will be overlooked by far too many: Supergrass broke up. I know they weren't especially well known over here, only coming out to tour every few years or so, but I've loved them for a long time, even going so far as to include their most recent (sigh, final) album on my best of the decade list. Perhaps ignored because of their penchant for silliness, the band went from a mashup of influences such as the Kinks and Buzzcocks to a legitimate rock force with which to be reckoned. When they released their debut, I Should Coco, in 1995, a friend of mine had heard about them from his older sister, and we would listen to "Caught by the Fuzz" and "I Don't Know" constantly. I still remember staying up until midnight on Saturdays to catch MTV's 120 Minutes video show--since it was the only place to see cool stuff that was still under the radar--hoping to catch the video for "Caught by the Fuzz." Wow, imagine MTV still being a source of interesting music!

Anyway, much like with BRMC, Supergrass is one of my favorites that still make me surprised when I label them as such. It's almost as if they've snuck up on me, but I find myself listening to them a lot. Their sound ranges from punk to Britpop to glam, with all kinds of twists thrown in. Lead singer Gaz Coombes has one of my favorite voices, and his brother Rob brings added depth with his always interesting keyboard parts. It seems kind of unfair that the only song that saw any real success stateside was "Alright," which was on the Clueless soundtrack. It was unmistakably Supergrass, and yet it wasn't really a good representation of their work as a whole. I will miss this band quite a bit, but they did put out five excellent albums (sorry, Road to Rouen!) that I can always come back to. RIP, Supergrass, you left us too soon.

Recommended listening: Diamond Hoo Ha, In it for the Money, I Should Coco, Life on Other Planets

A few videos spanning their career:

Supergrass - Caught By The Fuzz

Bad Religion at House of Blues Anaheim, 4/1/10

2010-04-13T15:23:00.000-07:00

I knew when I did my huge lists of my favorite albums of the decade I would leave stuff out. It's just the nature of lists that we forget things, no matter how long we spend putting it together. But boy, did I commit an egregious error when I left out Bad Religion. I ignored another of my favorite bands, Rocket From The Crypt, because I didn't feel anything they put out in that time span was quite good enough. Bad Religion, on the other hand, had a major creative upswing in the 2000's when founding member Brett Gurewitz came back, and the first album they did after the reunion, The Process of Belief, absolutely deserved to make the list. I admit, sometimes I'm remiss. After seeing them again recently, I feel even worse about it, but I'm confident they still have some strong material in them, something that'll make my inevitable list of the 10's. (What follows is likely to be long, so consider yourself warned.)

Me and Bad Religion, we go way back. Imagine a fat, baby-faced thirteen year-old finally discovering music beyond what he's been made to listen to in the car by his parents, and then colliding with the sudden resurgence in popularity of punk rock. The Offspring and Green Day were the ones who broke through, but 1994 also saw the release of Bad Religion's Stranger Than Fiction, featuring the ubiquitous single "Infected." That album became the first that I was ever truly obsessed with, listening to it over and over (something made even easier by the brief nature of punk rock songs). In fact, one of my most vivid middle school memories--other than all the awkward horror that most of experienced--is of standing in a circle with some of my best friends and just singing that record's "Marked" repeatedly, much to the chagrin of my group. Then, with the release of Epitaph's inaugural Punk-O-Rama compilation, I got a taste of old Bad Religion with "Do What You Want," and the door had been opened.

I started scooping up everything I could find, discovering their albums from the 80's and early 90's, and suddenly Stranger Than Fiction didn't seem so shiny anymore. Against the Grain became my favorite for its inspired blasts of hardcore mixed with killer melodies, endless riffs, 'oozin' ahhs' and the most intelligent lyrics I'd heard. "The Positive Aspect of Negative Thinking" may have only been a minute long, but it improved my vocabulary exponentially. Gurewitz and lead singer Greg Graffin wrote songs that were anti-government, pro-humanity, calls to think for ourselves. Even though I've never been one to care about politics, the overriding theme of individuality within community spoke to me, whether I realized that's what it was at the time or not. To this day, there is no band I sing along with louder or more often than Bad Religion. And while that's largely because they write extremely catchy and memorable songs, it has a lot to do with the words themselves; Graffin and Gurewitz are the only songwriters I think of as writing influences.

All of that should provide a clear picture of how excited I get to see this band, and how thrilled I was when my friend came through with tickets to last Thursday's show, one in a large batch of 30th Anniversary shows the band has been playing in LA, OC and San Diego. While we waited for the set to begin, the video screens showed pictures of album, single and video covers spanning their entire career. Then a few minutes before they started, the white background on the stage was removed to show a giant collage of many of those same images, with the Bad Religion symbol of a crossed-out cross taking up about half of it. A voice came over the house PA: "We're sorry to inform you that due to singer Chris Griffin being sick, Bad Religion will have to cancel tonight's show." There were a few scattered laughs, but mostly you could hear the collective eye-roll of the crowd; as April Fools jokes go, this one was exceptionally lame. Then the band came onstage, and the people went crazy.

Now, thirty years of this is bound to take a toll on anyone, but all of the founding/early members look remarkably good, some hair loss set aside. They blasted straight into the aforementioned "Do What You Want," and then "Overture/Sinister Rouge" with barely a hello, and then the distinctive riff of "American Jesus." The idea of this tour is to touch upon every album, and already we'd had songs from the 80's, 90's and 2000's. Graffin and bassist Jay Bentley did all the talking, as usual, with Graffin taking the traditional approach and Bentley making random comments in response to him and the crowd. When someone held up a sign with a song request, Bentley said "That better not say 'Entropy.' I'm not sixteen anymore, I can't go that high!" Later, when someone shouted another song title he said "Take those potatoes out of your ears!" Recognizing the line from "Modern Day Catastrophists," a few people went crazy, hoping it was a lead-in to the song, but Bentley demurred: "I'm too old to be a catastrophist."

I love Bad Religion more than most, but I have to admit some of the song choices left me cold. Don't get me wrong, they're all fun live, but mid-90's songs like "Them & Us," "Leave Mine to Me" and "Come Join Us" are not among my favorites, and I would have gladly traded them for more selections from Against the Grain (we only got "21st Century (Digital Boy)"), Recipe for Hate (just three songs) or any of the earliest recordings. But as I said, the energy with which they play makes even those lesser-loved songs sound immediate and exhilarating. For a bunch of guys in their mid-40's, they bring it better than most bands, churning through 32 songs in right around 90 minutes. Even with some songs I'm not fond of, it's hard to complain about a night that brought us "Watch it Die," "Recipe for Hate," "Atomic Garden" and "Fuck Armageddon...This is Hell." Add to this a new song, "The Resist Stance," which sounds like a continued creative reinvigoration for my favorite cerebral punk rockers, and overall I'd say it was a very good night. Not the best I've seen them, but still the most fun I've had at a show in a while.

As I've gotten older and found more and more music, both new and old, a lot of the gateway bands have fallen by my wayside. Bad Religion, then, should be held in even higher regard for their ability to keep me dancing, jumping, singing and thinking all these years later. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised to be attending a 40th anniversary show in ten years, and still loving it just as much.

Set List: Do What You Want / Overture-->Sinister Rouge / American Jesus / New Dark Ages / Atomic Garden / Supersonic / Prove It / Can't Stop It / Leave Mine to Me / Germs of Perfection / Them & Us / Come Join Us / Requiem for Dissent / Social Suicide / Suffer / Recipe for Hate / You / No Control / Dearly Beloved / Atheist Peace / We're Only Gonna Die / Delirium of Disorder / Watch it Die / Fuck Armageddon...This is Hell / Won't Somebody / Generator / The Resist Stance / I Want to Conquer the World / 21st Century (Digital Boy)

Encore: Infected / Los Angeles is Burning / Sorrow

Surfer Blood at Detroit Bar, 3/28/10

2010-04-04T11:47:00.000-07:00

Living in Southern California brings with it many perks: Mexican food; the weather; the beach (if you're into that kind of thing); Mexican food; In-N-Out; Legoland and, of course, Mexican food. But perhaps the best thing about living here is the abundance of concerts constantly taking place within driving distance. I don't even know how I'd adjust if I moved somewhere more isolated; I can deal with a slower pace, but where's my live music??? And sometimes you don't even have to drive to LA or Pomona or San Diego, because sometimes buzz bands make stops in little bars like Detroit in Costa Mesa. (I was once lucky enough to catch Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Liars and Jon Spencer Blues Explosion there right before YYYs blew up, but now I'm just bragging...). This was the case last Sunday, when Surfer Blood showed up in Orange County.

Surfer Blood is one of those bands that I'm usually wary of, and for good reason. If the music publications are trying to out-superlative each other to praise something, I'm always standing at the ready with my snarky anti-hype backlash. In this case, I've been pleased to keep my venom holstered, because these guys are good. Their debut, Astro Coast, is not without its flaws, chief of which is loose songwriting. Many songs go on too long or not long enough, or have musical interludes that don't go anywhere. But the catchiness of the melodies, and especially the guitar work make up for a lot of sins. This is a band whose heart is in the 90's, which seems appropriate since most of the members were born just before that decade; the stuff that I came of age with must seem like classic rock to them.

When they took the stage, their age really hit me. Or maybe it was mine. As I watched them I kept flashing back to my friends' bands from high school, and I felt very old. But Surfer Blood has a dorky charm that's hard to deny. Lead singer John Paul Pitts didn't bother to speak to the crowd much, other than to tell us we were great, but he played confidently and with an unselfconscious sense of groove that I really respected. Yeah, he may have looked goofy when he got into it, but he clearly didn't care. Percussionist/keyboardist Marcos Marchesani kept reaching up from the tambourine and cowbell he was hitting in an attempt to push his glasses back up his nose or move his considerable hair out of his face, but he didn't miss a beat.

The songs hit a little harder in some places, but I admit I was disappointed that Pitts didn't go for some of the high parts from the record, and the vocal reverb that is such a part of what makes the album good was missed as well. They made up for that, though, by extending some songs with more excellent guitar work. "Take it Easy," which I like to think of as "The song Vampire Weekend wishes they could write," really benefited from the extra attention, adding an extended guitar solo that fleshed out the somewhat monotonous ending from the record. "Harmonix" was longer too, and the anthemic "Swim," my personal favorite, was every bit as rousing live. Despite my wish that he had stretched his voice a bit more, Pitts' singing was very strong, especially when he reached down for a good yell.

When you have only one album and succeed so quickly, live sets tend to be limited, and this was no different. They played eight of the ten songs, which didn't even take forty minutes. But just like the record it was a spirited ride, leaving us wanting more, and showing a lot of promise of what's to come.

Set list: Floating Vibes / Take it Easy / Harmonix / Twin Peaks / Fast Jabroni / Anchorage / Swim / Catholic Pagans

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at the Echoplex, 3/12/10

2010-03-30T20:21:00.000-07:00

Cinderella once sang, "Don't know what you got till it's gone," and while I think we were all more or less aware of what we had in Cinderella, they still sang true. During my dizzy time in the bunker (which rotated between my apartment and my girlfriend's), I was so preoccupied with my health and how disorienting the vertigo was that it never even occurred to me that I hadn't been to a concert since the second week of December. For me, that's quite a while. Luckily, a remedy was on the horizon: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

To put it simply, concertsaremyfavoritethingeverohmygodyay! Or, to quote Jeff Tweedy: "A rock concert is the closest thing to what I think people expect church to be like." Now, I'm not saying that my problems had anything to do with concert withdrawal, but I can't really prove they didn't, either. As it turned out, my first trip back to my 'church' was a memorable one. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (or BRMC for those who don't feel like typing that whole thing multiple times) is one of my sneaky favorites. By sneaky I mean that I never think to mention them in the upper echelon, yet I own and listen to all of their albums frequently, and I've seen them six times. That's more than most bands I would list before them--maybe it's time to shuffle things around. And they are always compelling live, striking a nice balance between their mellower songs from Howl and their more typical fuzzy, sexy Jesus and Mary Chain-esque rock.

On this night they were coming off the release of their latest, Beat the Devil's Tattoo, so naturally they leaned fairly hard on those songs, starting things off with the swampy "War Machine" and the driving, vaguely industrial "Mama Taught Me Better," an excellent one-two combo of a mission statement for the evening. Co-lead singers Robert Levon Been and Peter Hayes trade off songs, so after two straight from Robert it was time for Pete to step forward, tearing through the fan favorite "Love Burns" and then donning his harmonica holder to dust off B.R.M.C. B-side "Screaming Gun."

This is the first album and tour with new drummer Leah Shapiro, and she sounded great on the shoegaze of "Bad Blood" and bluesy stomp of "Conscience Killer," both new, but she was just as strong on the older tracks. BRMC have never had particularly complicated drumming, but it's always provided the perfect foundation and groove to Been and Hayes' songs. As for the new material, it signals a bit of a return to their early sound, while still carrying over bits of the acoustic and sometimes folky feel of Howl. "Beat the Devil's Tattoo" is the most overtly similar to Howl, with its dual acoustic guitars and group vocals, and the live rendition did it justice and then some. About halfway through the two-hour set, Hayes and Shapiro left the stage, with only Been and his acoustic guitar remaining. "I really don't have a voice tonight, but I'm gonna try to bullshit my way through another song," he said. Then, after a moment, he continued: "Then again, our bullshit sounds better than most people's sincerity," a statement that received much applause, cheering and head shakes. As hackneyed as the sentiment was, we couldn't really disagree with him.

After Been's acoustic version of "Sympathetic Noose," Hayes switched places with him and did "The Toll," before the full band came back out for a roaring conclusion to the main set, including "Six Barrel Shotgun," "Spread Your Love," and my personal favorite, "Red Eyes and Tears." After treating us to a couple more deep cuts to start the encore, they closed with "Shadow's Keeper," a song with a riff that takes up permanent residence in your brain before the end builds into an avalanche of noise. Then, after a moment of thinking it was all over, the room went completely dark and green laser lights shot over the crowd as the two singers joined forces for the sad but hopeful "Open Invitation." It was a wonderful juxtaposition to the bombast of the end of the set, and added a sense of wonder I wouldn't have expected at a BRMC show. We all stood there and took it in, because after all, like they say in the song, "we may never be here again."

Set List: War Machine / Mama Taught Me Better / Love Burns / Screaming Gun / Bad Blood / Beat the Devil's Tattoo / Aya / Berlin / Weapon of Choice / Took Out a Loan / Long Way Down / Ain't No Easy Way / Whatever Happened to My Rock & Roll / Sympathetic Noose (Robert solo acoustic) / The Toll (Peter solo acoustic) / 666 Conducer / Shuffle Your Feet / Conscience Killer / Six Barrel Shotgun / Red Eyes and Tears / Spread Your Love

Encore: Steal a Ride / Rifles / Shadow's Keeper / Open Invitation

Vertigo Your Own Way; or How I Learned to Stop Spinning and Love the Blog

2010-03-15T00:06:00.000-07:00

Why, hello there. As you could probably tell from the post below this, it's been over two months since I wrote anything on here, and for all of you who care, I apologize. It's been nice to actually receive some complaints about my lack of output, but I assure you, I've had a good reason. A full explanation for my absence and our first ever guest appearance coming after the jump.

After spending many hours writing those very long lists of mine I felt like I was in a groove, but a couple days after I finished the final part I started noticing the world moving weird around me, kind of a rocking back and forth sensation. It got worse, and I became concerned because, with me, it's always a brain tumor. Thankfully, two months and three doctor's visits later I've discovered it's only (only!) sinus and ear problems that have crept into my inner ear and disrupted all my crystals. It's still not all the way healed, and in fact the show I went to on Friday night aggravated it quite a bit, but reading and writing on the computer no longer make my head swim. Thus, this post you see before you! And it feels great to be back. In the coming days I'll review that show from Friday, and I have something else that was about 1/3 finished when I lost the ability to walk straight.

Hopefully I'll be all better soon and writing more regularly, but to start things off we have something from Mr. Tom Solmer (Happy birthday, Tom, you old scoundrel, you!) that he sent me while I was stumbling around. Enjoy:

Tom's Top 9 of the '90s

In the spirit of Brian's Top 28 of the Aughts, I've written my own list, a Top 9 of the '90s. Why 9? Because I'm too lazy (and ignorant) to make a top 90 list, but not quite lazy enough to make a top zero list. The same rules apply: it's about what they mean to me, not critical or historical significance, and each band is limited to one spot.

9. Pixies, Doolittle (1989). Didn't happen in the '90s, but it started them off. So, close enough. Something always hits the style of the next decade ahead of time.

8. At the Drive-In, In/Casino/Out (1998). See #9. These guys had to hitch a ride on the emo scene because no one knew what they were. The future is confusing like that.

7. Sublime, Sublime (1996). You didn't go to a party in high school without hearing it. Cross-genre not because it was hip, but because it just reflected their style. Genuine and original, despite most of the songs being rip-offs.

6. NOFX, So Long and Thanks for All the Shoes (1997). Simply the best punk album ever made.

5. Built to Spill, Perfect from Now On (1997). I can't think of any album that's more pleasurable to hear.

4. Weezer, Weezer (1994). Seriously, your first album, and this is what comes out? So brilliant, smooth, and cool; it gives pop music a good name. Every second, from start to finish, is perfect.

3. Smashing Pumpkins, Siamese Dream (1993). Must be loud, very loud. Another rare example, like Weezer or Dark Side of the Moon, of a truly flawless work of art.

2. Donuts N' Glory, When Pregnasaurs Ruled the Earth (1996). If you see a copy somewhere, buy it. Words would fail.

1. Weezer, Pinkerton (1996). So good that it requires breaking the rules of the list. Like the self-titled debut, every second is perfect. But it's also raw and passionate and ballsy in a way that no follow-up to a band's multi-million-selling debut has ever been.

Best Live Album: The Queers, Suck This (1998). We'd have a riot doing heroin.

Me and My Decade 3: The Final Chapter

2010-01-04T23:53:00.000-08:00

New Year's took a little bit more out of me than I expected it to (which seems like a gross miscalculation on my part, but I digress...), so this is a few days later than I had intended. But after thousands and thousands of words to sort it out--and thousands more below, to be sure--we've finally arrived at the end of my attempt to document the music of the decade that mattered the most to me. It's been fun, but please let me know what some of your choices would have been, or why some (or all) of mine are terrible, or even just chime in with some "Supergrass, hell yeah!" level remarks. And if you haven't read parts 1 & 2 yet, just scroll down, or you can find them here and here.

10. Wilco, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

Now we come to the first band that really suffered from my 'one album' rule. If I had just compiled a list of my favorite 28 albums of the decade, or even 20, Wilco would have occupied at least one and possibly even two more positions. But while I do love A Ghost is Born and Sky Blue Sky, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was the clear choice. Like many others on this countdown, YHF was essentially my introduction to a band that I grew to love, but it seemed like more of a longshot than the rest. For years the book on me has been that I like the rock (a fact that should surprise no one who's read this far), and a band like Wilco seemed too country or pop or, worst of all, soft to appeal to me. As it happened, the song that reeled me in was one of the slower, sadder ones, "Radio Cure." I can still remember riding in my friend's car, tuning out or talking over the first couple of tracks, but when that song came on I paid attention. A lament with a musical sparseness that is present throughout the album, "Radio Cure's" first line is singer Jeff Tweedy's mournful "Cheer up, honey, I hope you can/There is something wrong with me," and something about it moved me. And he follows that up with a chorus of "Distance has no way of making love understandable," which I can only assume is Tweedy's rebuttal to that old adage about hearts and fondness. Though it wasn't released until 2002 because of a dispute Wilco had with Warner Bros., the band streamed it for free on their website in September of 2001. The week after 9/11, to be exact, and despite having been written before the attacks, the words "Tall buildings shake/Voices escape singing sad, sad songs," from "Jesus, Etc.," must have felt eerily poignant at the time; I know they were for me even in April of the following year.

Luckily, the whole album is not that sad. "Heavy Metal Drummer" looks back fondly on summers past, filled with concerts and pot and innocence. "Pot Kettle Black" pokes fun at feuding through song, and "I'm the Man Who Loves You" is a declaration of love that bemoans the need to write it instead of just saying it: "If I could you know I would just hold your hand and you'd understand/I'm the man who loves you!" Never sad, the song is all cheerful guitars, 'woo woo' backing vocals and horns rising up to punctuate his point. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot's mix of contemplative, despondent, optimistic and weathered was perfect for the time, and occasionally it can be hard to listen to because it recalls those emotions so well, but it remains a beautiful record by a band pushing out against the boundaries of its early alt-country sound, and the beginning of a strong creative decade for Wilco. Because of those things, I suspect I'll still be listening to this one at the end of the next decade, and beyond.

9. The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America (2006)

Ah, Craig Finn and his stories of bars and concerts, kisses and lovers, Berryman and Kerouac, Minneapolis, and of course Charlemagne, Gideon and Holly. The other band on my list with lyrics I love as much as the music (along with Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds), the Hold Steady are easily the fastest risers on here. Though it came out in 2006, I've only had Boys and Girls in America since late last year (which means it just barely evades my 2009 exclusionary clause), but I love it and the band so much that it might have ended up higher, and likely will eventually. For a few years people familiar with the band had been telling me to check it out, based on their musical style and a vague resemblance that I have to lead singer Finn, and I just didn't do it. 'The Best Bar Band Ever' sounded intriguing, but it wasn't exactly lighting my world on fire. Then I heard the more recent Stay Positive, and I'm sure you can guess what happened. I scooped this up next and found that it was even better, taking a more overt classic rock approach to the songs. While the bar band comparisons make sense, especially given the lyrical content (more on that later), the Hold Steady are really just a classic rock band, disciples of the Who, the Rolling Stones, the Ramones and, of course, The Boss. Taking 60s and 70s style riffs, big verses and even bigger choruses, and sprinkling in liberal amounts of piano and occasional horns or strings, the Hold Steady make some of the best straightforward 'rock' of anyone. Guitarist Tad Kubler may not be reinventing the wheel, but he is a monster, capable of ripping off a huge solo or a catchy little lick at any moment, and keyboardist and primary backing vocalist Franz Nicolay adds an extra level of emotion through both.

And then there's Finn. Even though he's essentially the soul of the band, he's also the most polarizing aspect. Not blessed with the best singing voice, his nasal and talky delivery turns a lot of people off. For me, though, without his voice, singing his lyrics, the Hold Steady wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Every song is its own little story, but he has recurring themes, phrases and even characters that span songs and even albums. I don't know if these people are real, or just representative of the lifestyle he's trying to convey, but their repeat appearances give the music a continuity that's less heavy-handed than a concept album. On "First Night" he revisits the three I listed at the top, but it's mostly a sad tribute to Holly as she struggles to get past her party girl days. "Holly's not invincible/In fact she's in the hospital/Not far from the bar where we met/On that first night," when "she slept like she'd never been scared." But on "Stuck Between Stations" Finn imagines what poet John Berryman's last night was like before jumping off that bridge in Minnesota: "The Devil and John Berryman took a walk together/And they ended up on Washington talking to the river." Look, I don't want this to turn into an English essay, but the man has a way with words, and that has an appeal to me, as you might imagine. And any record that can combine energetic, ecstatic rock and this type of storytelling is a winner in my book.

8. The Raconteurs, Consolers of the Lonely (2008)

Speaking of energetic and ecstatic rock, here we have the Jack White coronation I couldn't give the White Stripes. I have a feeling that more than any other choice before or after, the Raconteurs will be met with the most resistance. And that's fine. Just know that no other album has excited me like this one did when I first got it. Admittedly, that may have had something to do with my expectations, and the surprise of there even being a second Raconteurs album. When Jack White first recruited Brendan Benson and the rhythm section of the Greenhornes, it sounded like a great idea; White's songwriting ability paired with a near equal in Benson, and most importantly, a full band behind him. But their debut, Broken Boy Soldiers, was merely an enjoyable collection of songs, with a couple standouts. So when Consolers of the Lonely came out with almost no advance warning early last year, I was only curious. As it turned out, the band had holed up and transformed into a classic rock juggernaut, throwing in bits of bluegrass, country and even funk. "Consoler of the Lonely" starts off the album with the sounds of people joking around and having a good time in the studio, before laying down a vicious riff that Benson springs from declaring, "Haven't seen the sun in weeks/My skin is getting pale/Haven't got a mind left to speak/I'm skinny as a rail!" before a sudden time change brings White offering his services ("If you're looking for an accomplice..."), and then the whole band goes off on a jam breakdown for the last minute. It's one of the best album openers I've ever heard, getting the listener in the mood and letting you know exactly what you're in for, only no two songs sound alike. "You Don't Understand Me" is a White-led piano ballad where he tells some girl "in the court of my heart your ignorance is treason." Benson brings us the county-tinged "Old Enough" (track down the actual bluegrass version if you can) and the theatric western "The Switch and the Spur."

White is obviously the main attraction for most, but Benson is a great singer and guitarist in his own right, and they switch off beautifully. I'd say White sings about 55% of the time, but they're constantly singing each other's songs or providing excellent backup, giving the album a communal feel. "Hold On" may be the best example of this, featuring constant 'woo's,' 'yeahs' and group vocals, even though White sings lead, and if there ever was a song that sounded like a great big party (without feeling corny for a second), it's this one. Drummer Patrick Keeler makes you wonder why Jack ever bothered with Meg, and bassist Jack Lawrence fills in the holes that some White Stripes songs inevitably suffer from. Compared to the Stripes albums that never stuck with me the way they should have, this feels like a revelation. The Raconteurs have taken the template of classic rock and added their own touches, so while it doesn't sound revolutionary, it never sounds derivative, and it's always invigorating. As time goes on I actually love it more, and I had to restrain myself from putting it too high. But if the 8-14 range is really as close as I said it was (and it is), Consolers of the Lonely has to be the top dog among those. The band seems to be on indefinite hiatus, but for now, this stands as Jack White's high point. I'd love to see him top it.

7. Radiohead, In Rainbows (2007)

For someone who found Kid A to be such a colossal disappointment, In Rainbows almost felt like the band had heard my complaints. Where Kid A sacrificed songs for experimentation in all but a few cases, this one is all songs with just the right amount of strange touches thrown in. Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood and company have long been one of the best bands around, especially live, and even in a crowded 90's they probably had the best album of that decade with OK Computer. But at the start of this decade I felt like they lost their way. If you culled together all the truly great songs from their first three releases in the 2000's, you could make a really great album, but this was the first one that I loved beginning to end. It starts off somewhat precariously with a stutter beat and electronic drums on "15 Step," but when Yorke starts singing, and then Greenwood comes in after the first verse, it all comes together. The next song, "Bodysnatchers," is the best guitar rock song they've done since "Just," and one of my favorites. "All I Need" revisits the obsessed narrator from "Creep," only now he isn't quite as sure of what he wants ("I'm an animal/Trapped in your hot car...I am a moth/Who just wants to share your light."). And the closing song, "Videotape," rides a simple but affecting piano melody into looping optimism.

There's not much I can say about Radiohead that hasn't been said. Even my slightly contrarian opinion of Kid A is not unique, but as much as I resent it for letting me down, I recognize that has everything to do with what I wanted the band to be, not what their own vision was. I also know that without that album, In Rainbows wouldn't sound the way it does, and that would be a shame. But to me, Radiohead sound so much stronger here than on anything else since OK Computer that it makes me want to love everything in between, and I just can't. Whether that's an indictment of the band or just high praise for this album, I'm not sure. I tend to think the latter.

6. My Morning Jacket, Z (2005)

Here we have another band that has gone through a major evolution, though in a more condensed timeframe. Z actually stands as an interesting counterpoint to my problems with Kid A, since it also featured significant change that could have potentially alienated fans like me. My Morning Jacket started as very country-tinged indie rock, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were indie-tinged country. Jim James' soaring, high-pitched, reverb-soaked vocals made already strong acoustic songs even better, and each of their first three albums got progressively more complicated, balancing more of a classic/southern rock sound with the early ballad style. But Z starts out with a bass guitar all by itself, before going into a keyboard heavy groove. Where did the guitars go? Then James starts singing, higher up in the mix than ever before, and the 'ahhhhh ahhhhh ahhhhh' of the chorus kicks in, and it sounds gorgeous. As if to top all that and prove that the guitars aren't always necessary, James coos and howls and wails over the last part of the song in an insane vocal display that may be the finest moment of the album. Just one song in, and MMJ have already shown that the following nine could be almost anything and it'd still be good. "Gideon," my personal favorite, starts with a simple beat and an almost Castlevania-like guitar line, then builds into an ever heavier and more layered conclusion, with the crash of the band being led by James' seemingly indefatigable pipes, all in only three minutes.

Throughout the album, the band tries to balance the pretty and interesting parts with their need to just rock the hell out, and on balance they nail it. "What a Wonderful Man" has pop pianos and guitar, but after the first chorus James shrieks and they jam for twenty seconds or so before going seamlessly back to the song proper. The reggae leanings of "Off the Record" transition into an outro of spacey keyboard and backward vocals. "Anytime" is another classic rock romp that manages to reference Madonna lyrically, and "Lay Low," one of only two songs that actually sound like they would have been on a previous My Morning Jacket release, channels Lynyrd Skynyrd with a three minute guitar solo at the end that manages to never sound gratuitous. The whole band sounds great, and moving James' voice to the fore was definitely a wise choice. No matter how collaborative they may be, MMJ is Jim James and his vocals, flying-V guitar and ensuing shredding, and on Z he sounds better than ever before.

5. LCD Soundsystem, Sound of Silver (2007)

So we go from a bunch of classic rock-leanings (and Radiohead), to...a dance record? Well, no. Being the rock curmudgeon I am, a band called LCD Soundsystem, whose big hit is called "Daft Punk is Playing at My House," didn't sound very appealing. But, like with many other bands on here, I had a transformative moment that changed my mind. For this one, it was watching them by accident at Coachella. I had headed over to the tents to see the Black Keys, I think, but I was standing near the Sahara tent while I was waiting, because, you know, there should really never be a time when you're not watching bands at Coachella. I didn't even know it was LCD Soundsystem until I had heard a couple songs, realized it was pretty great, and looked it up in my schedule. For about twenty minutes I was having one of the best times ever, wondering why I hadn't been informed about this earlier. Not surprisingly, the poor Black Keys just couldn't measure up, love them though I do. Sometime later I received a copy of a mix my friend had made that included Sound of Silver's "All My Friends," and I fell hard. The track, which has to be in any discussion for song of the decade, starts with a quick, almost stumbling piano reminiscent of the Who, before the drums, bass and guitar slowly rise up in its wake, sounding like a musical train. "That's how it starts," singer and mastermind James Murphy announces, and what follows is a steadily escalating story about someone, possibly Murphy himself, hanging on to his partying ways as long as he can. Musical touches get added with every verse, and when it finally stops I always want to go back and do it again.

But of course an album has more than one song, and the other eight on Sound of Silver are almost as good. Murphy has melded dance and rock perfectly, achieving something I never would have thought possible: he's made dance music palatable to an atheist (and noted un-dancer) like me. "Get Innocuous!" has one of the more conventionally dancey beats, but like "All My Friends," it adds subtle layers as it goes, and Murphy's vocals seem to stretch back and forth across the music. "Someone Great," which goes back to back with "All My Friends" to form an impressive middle of the record, is an incredibly catchy song about loss: "The worst is all the lovely weather/I'm stunned it's not raining/The coffee isn't even bitter/Because, what's the difference?" In addition to being a strong lyricist, Murphy has a great voice, ranging from Brian Eno-esque deepness on the title track, to a nasal tell-off on "Time to Get Away," to joyous ringleader on "Watch the Tapes." The album ends with a curveball, and the only song without a dance beat: the piano-led lament "New York, I Love You but You're Bringing Me Down," which features digs at the police and other public figures ("Your mild billionaire mayor's now convinced he's a king"), but is ultimately a love letter to the city, culminating in an out of character but somehow perfect guitar solo. Considering my former dismissive attitude toward LCD Soundsystem, it amazes me how often I can, and want to, listen to Sound of Silver. These nine songs make up one of the most effective crossover albums ever, and it really excites me to think what Murphy might do next.

4. TV on the Radio, Dear Science, (2008)

I was thinking about this a little, and then my friend pointed it out to me yesterday: as much as the lower levels of this list had many albums that would not have been on most critic's lists, as I get closer to the top, more and more critical darlings are popping up. Considering my general aversion to being told what to do, I'd say that speaks to the universal excellence of some of these. And TV on the Radio are indeed excellent, though for me they had to prove it. When Return to Cookie Mountain came out to mass praise and general pants-wetting, I heard "Wolf Like Me" and almost had an accident myself. If that's not the song of the decade, then I am Mickey Mouse! (How dare he?) But the rest of the album seemed fairly impenetrable, with strange ambient sounds, sometimes awkward song structures, and a serious lack of hooks. Basically, it suffered from having one incredible and accessible song that made the rest seem like a chore. I heard the ideas, and the effort to mesh funk and soul with rock and just about anything else they could think of, but I didn't enjoy it so much as respect it. Seeing them play live only made it harder, because the songs burned with a different kind of urgency that the layers of production and sound tended to obscure on record. Well, Dear Science manages to address all of my concerns without ever sounding like anything but exactly what TVOTR's next move should have been. From the opening drums of "Halfway Home," all the way to the flute-assisted outro of "Lover's Day," Tunde Adebimpe, Kyp Malone, and friends make song after song of incredible hooks, killer grooves, and alternately exhilarating and devastating lyrics.

"Crying" is all soul, with Malone's voice going from bass to falsetto over a funky guitar and funkier beat. "Dancing Choose" makes me wish the term 'rap rock' had never been coined, with Adebimpe rap-singing maniacally over a fuzzy bass, and then horns, horns, horns and a big rock chorus that brings it all together. Malone slows it back down again for "Stork & Owl," cautioning us to "turn from the fear of the storms that might be," before switching gears and envisioning impending musical utopia ("An age of miracles/An age of sound") on "Golden Age," featuring drums like hand claps and yet another horn-elevated chorus. I don't know that it's intentional, but "Golden Age" may as well be a meta comment on this album, which sounds like the direction rock, or just music in general, should be headed, even if I couldn't have told you that before I heard it. Of course, any expectation that TV on the Radio's next album will even sound like this is probably folly; they have such a strong desire to explore, it'd be hard to predict what they might do. All I know is this would have certainly been higher, maybe even number 1, if it had come out a year or two before. It really is that great.

3. Fugazi, The Argument (2001)

If it seems like I've been overusing the 'this one would be higher, given more time' superlative, it's because I probably have. There are only so many ways to gush over one album, never mind twenty-eight. But we've officially reached the point in my countdown where there is no upward momentum, only three entrenched classics looking down on the other contenders, wondering if they will someday be unseated. The Argument is my favorite album by one of my five favorite bands, and I may love it more now than I did in the honeymoon phase. There are bands on here that have been described as 'indie rock,' but no band was more aggressively independent than Fugazi. Releasing all of their recordings through Dischord Records (co-owned by co-lead singer Ian MacKaye) at cheap prices, playing only all ages venues, trying to only charge five dollars to shows, and actively discouraging violent moshing and slam dancing, they were fan friendly as well. And as they got older, new elements would get added into their sound, evolving from a punk blueprint into something not easily definable. The Argument, their last album before going on hiatus, stands as their creative peak, mixing the unbridled aggression of their earlier sound with a new ear for melody. MacKaye's voice has never been good (remember when I compared Against Me!'s Tom Gabel to him a million words ago?), but his feral, spitting delivery has always fit their music perfectly, and when it didn't they just had Guy Picciotto sing instead. But for this album MacKaye softened his delivery at times, starting with "Cashout," a song about the evils of development and eminent domain, using the scream selectively during the closing refrain: "Everybody wants somewhere!" "Full Disclosure" switches to Picciotto doing his own screamy thing, with the familiar spiky guitars and frantic drums of Fugazi's older material, but then the chorus slows down ever so slightly as a choir of 'ooooooooo's show up to support.

A few songs have a second drummer, and it really beefs up the sound. The best of these is "Epic Problem," with MacKaye punctuating lines with 'Stop!' as if he were sending a telegram, and when it hits a crescendo midway through, the dual kits jump to the fore. "Life and Limb" sounds like Fugazi's insane idea of jazz, with Picciotto demanding, "Hey, we want our violence doubled (no, but really in a loving way)." The middle section of the album slows down a bit, detouring through a spacey landscape on "The Kill" and "Strangelight," but once it gets to the double drums intro of "Ex-Spectator" it launches into some of its most impressive music, featuring inventive lead guitar and bass, and "Nightshop's" use of acoustic strumming gives it extra depth. And as the last track, "Argument," boils over into an angry, anti-war screed, MacKaye unleashes his howl one more time, bringing to a close what may be the final brilliant album by a legendary and yet somehow simultaneously overlooked band.

2. Queens of the Stone Age, Songs for the Deaf (2002)

I spend a lot of time ranking things (I know, right? You never would have guessed). I just have this need to put things in the proper perspective, the right order, so I know where they stand. Before I ever got my hands on an advance copy of Songs for the Deaf (thank you, Rishi!), I knew Queens of the Stone Age were reaching 'favorite band' status. Their self-titled debut, and especially Rated R, worked for me in so many ways, it was like eHarmony had set us up. They are the chief reason I limited myself to one album per band, because there would have been at least three QOTSA entries in the top fifteen alone. But even without that rule this would have still been number two, both for the impact it had on me then and how much I'm still obsessed with it now. Speaking of 'then,' let's hear from Brian, circa 2002:

Queens of the Stone Age were already, without question, one of the best rock bands in years when their last album, "Rated R," came out. Now, with the addition of two great refugees of the Seattle music scene, they are approaching perfection. Mark Lanegan, former lead singer of the dearly departed Screaming Trees, and Dave Grohl from the Foo Fighters and Nirvana are both on board this time, along with original bassist/singer Nick Oliveri and guitarist/singer Josh Homme, for "Songs For The Deaf." The album opens with the Oliveri-led "Millionaire," a high octane screamer reminiscent of his songs from the previous album. After that, the band's pop sensibilities shine. "No One Knows," the first single, has a beat that you cannot get out of your head, and Josh's vocals are almost beautiful on "First It Giveth" and "The Sky Is Fallin'," which sounds like the Beatles meet Black Sabbath. After the ridiculously rude and heavy "Six Shooter" the catchiness comes back with "Go With The Flow," "Gonna Leave You" and "Do It Again," each a possible second single. Grohl's distinctly heavy style of drumming is a great advantage, adding a dimension to the songs that was slightly lacking before. Lanegan lends his wonderfully deep and raspy voice to "Hanging Tree" and the best track on the album, "God Is In The Radio." He also co-writes three songs, including the final track, "Song For The Deaf," which harkens back to their self-titled debut album. And let's hear it for a "hidden track" that is listed on the back cover of the CD. Here's hoping that Queens will get the recognition that far less interesting and talented bands such as Limp Bizkit, Korn, The Hives and The Vines are getting. Even if they don't, however, they will continue to put out fantastic albums that those of us lucky enough to like them will cherish forever.

I wrote that on the Amazon page for Songs for the Deaf right after it came out; it's not nearly as embarrassing to read as I'd feared it would be. I should point out a couple things. First, I'm strangely proud of myself for pegging "Go with the Flow" as one of a trio of potential second singles, since it became the band's biggest or second biggest hit. With the jittery piano, wavy lead guitar and Homme's high, catchy vocals, it's one of my favorite songs--it's interesting to look back on a version of me that hadn't given over to it completely yet. And second, my omission of "Song for the Dead" is almost criminal. It's a dirty, dirgey tune sung by Lanegan; bookended by crazy jamming, its starting and stopping, moaning background vocals, intermittent riffing and soloing all make it an obvious highlight. Otherwise, my feelings on it haven't changed, and the puffing out of the chest you sense when I bash those other bands still rises up in me when I listen to it. I may laud TV on the Radio for making exciting new music, taking things in a new direction, but Queens of the Stone Age have long been the perfect version of what I think rock and roll should sound like. Songs for the Deaf is their mission statement.

1. Arcade Fire, Funeral (2004)

Figuring this list out has been a stressful process these past few weeks. My room's a mess, my shirts are wrinkled, I haven't been sleeping enough or eating well, and my facial hair is out of control. Oh, none of that is different than usual? Fine, but even without visible side effects, it has been difficult, first figuring out everything that came out this decade that might be worthy, then deciding what I could leave off, then ranking what I had left over. I listened to every one of these albums at least twice before I started writing, and I had trouble sometimes figuring out how to separate the ones I found almost equal. I say all of that only because I had no such problems with the very top. It was always going to be Songs for the Deaf and Funeral; the first time I thought about doing this they were the first two that came to mind. The only problem I had was the last one, the ranking. I'd probably listened to Songs more, but I'd had it longer, so that wasn't exactly fair. Songs also played more to my tastes, what with all the killer guitars and crazy drums and Mark Lanegan, but every time I tried to place it higher than Funeral, it felt false. Ultimately it came down to one thing: while I love them just about equally on a music level, Songs merely gets me amped up or happy, whereas Arcade Fire's debut digs up deeper emotions, feelings of love, loss, elation, confusion, anger and sadness. And no matter how intense the feeling, I always welcome it back.

When I first got a hold of Funeral, there was a lot of stuff going on in my life. I had been depressed, though I couldn't figure out why; I was in one of my unrequited love cycles; and I had just recently become close with someone who would become one of my best friends, and at that time her family was struggling with the impending loss of her brother-in-law. As is my way, I got close to not only her but her family as well, and specifically her nephew, the one who would likely be losing his dad soon. All of these things were taking their toll, feeding into each other, and then I found this beautiful elegy to heart and home and loved ones. Win Butler sang with such unselfconscious passion, straining past the limits of his voice for the sake of the moment, and the music was like nothing else I was listening to at the time. Integrating accordion and xylophone--along with the more conventional strings and horns--into their Bowie and Talking Heads-influenced compositions, the Arcade Fire were making emotional music that never sounded like it was trying to be anything more than a vessel for what the members were going through when they wrote it. An inspection of the liner notes revealed that several band members had lost family during the recording, and it seemed to explain to me why it spoke to me so much.

"Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," the leadoff track, is still the one that hits me the hardest, with its tale of children escaping tragedy. But their fantasy can't last forever: "But sometimes, we remember our bedrooms/And our parents' bedrooms/And the bedrooms of our friends/Then we think of our parents/Well, whatever happened to them?!" Butler's voice cracks on that last part, and many times I would shout myself raw right along with him. "Crown of Love" sounded like both the obsessive I was and the ruined person I would be if faced with rejection by the object of my affection. The slowly building strings added to the resignation of the narrator, leading up to his final desperate plea: "You gotta be the one/You gotta be the way/Your name is the only word/The only word that I can say!" (In a testament to the music, that line and song took on a very different, infinitely more positive meaning for me when I really did fall in love years later.) And the Queens-ish guitar of "Wake Up" is merely the backbone for the majestic choruses that sound like everyone you know is singing.

My favorite song, though, is "Rebellion (Lies)." A driving bass line starts it off, soon joined by piano, xylophone, drums, violins and just about everything else. "Sleeping is giving in/No matter what the time is/Sleeping is giving in/So lift those heavy eyelids," Butler sings, and I used to feel angry and drained when I sang along. But then I saw the Arcade Fire for the first time, at Coachella 2005. It was a highly anticipated set, the album having come out just the fall before. My friends and I made our way up through the crowd as best we could, finally settling on a spot maybe two-thirds of the way up, left-center. They played great, and the people got into it, but the real magic was when they closed with "Rebellion." Win's voice was worn down from all their touring and the wind at the venue, but it didn't matter. At the start of the song, as the bass signaled the beat, a sea of humanity all started clapping in unison, seeming to stretch out from the stage forever, and the sense of joy was palpable. The momentum carried throughout the whole song, as did the goofy grin on my face. I have never had a happier moment at a concert; just thinking of it now is making me smile. There was a time when I thought I wouldn't be able to listen to this album ever again because of the negative emotions that would undoubtedly be tied to it; now it reminds me of the good times and the bad, and how connected they all are. That's the power Funeral has, and that's why it's my favorite album of the 2000's.

Alive in the Superunknown

2010-01-01T13:35:00.000-08:00

I had to take a break from all my listing to point out this exciting story I just read: Soundgarden is (probably) getting back together! Apparently, all that I had to do to make this happen was briefly lament their demise in my Metallica review. This is the most exciting reunion I could think of, personally, since Soundgarden was one of my first, favorite bands. When my parents bought me my first CD player back in middle school, Superunknown was the first album I went out and bought personally, and I still listen to it fairly often. And no kid of about my age could get through MTV or radio without seeing the amazingly creepy "Black Hole Sun" video, or hearing "Spoonman," "My Wave" or "Fell On Black Days" on KROQ (you know, back when KROQ was still good). Lead singer Chris Cornell recently showed up at a Pearl Jam show, sounding as good as ever, and drummer Matt Cameron is still playing great, these days with Pearl Jam. I can only assume that Kim Thayil (lead guitar) and Ben Shepherd (bass) still know what they're doing. If this rumor pans out, I really hope they pop up at Coachella; it would be roughly infinity times more exciting than when the Pixies did it.

The Decade, Part II: This Section is Non-Operational

2009-12-31T20:26:00.000-08:00

Ahoy, and welcome back to the countdown of the decade! Literally, of course, since I'm sure, technically speaking anyway, there are far better countdowns that have happened this decade. That VH1 show about the 100 best hard rock bands, for instance, was super cool. (And for all you music geeks, there is a clue in the title and the picture for this post to a couple of the albums in this part. Not that you'll have to wait long, but I'm trying to spice it up).

Anyway, let's get on with the next 36% of the list:

20. Tenacious D, Tenacious D (2001)

Yesterday, I said that the Supergrass ranking was the silliest one, but how do you get any sillier than the D? The only album I'm having a hard time listening to while I write because the lyrics and skits are still hilarious, Tenacious D was something I came upon almost by accident. I'd never seen their HBO show, so I had no idea how great Jack Black and Kyle Gass really were, but one day MTV showed the video for "Wonderboy," and when the first lines were "High above the mucky-muck" I knew I was onto something here. I quickly went and picked it up and found that not only was it funny, but musically impressive. The conceit of the show had been that they played metal with just two acoustic guitars, but for the record they enlisted a full band behind the acoustics, including Dave Grohl on drums for several songs, and what resulted was a comedy album that was almost better as straight music. With lyrics ranging from fucking her gently to killing yaks with mind bullets to an absurd revolution against city hall, the comedic aspect was no slouch either, and Black proved to be a surprisingly awesome singer. And when they retire former Ozzy Osbourne replacement Ronnie James Dio, asking only that he pass on his secrets, cape and sceptre, they actually sound like they deserve it. No other album has ever inspired me to sing it front to back, karaoke style, at a New Years party, which has to count for something. Tenacious D is unquestionably the greatest acoustic metal/sketch comedy record of all time--a prestigious honor, to be sure.

19. System of a Down, Toxicity (2001)

Speaking of metal, it's time for a different brand of wacky/heavy music. System of a Down showed up with their eponymous debut in 1998, and there are some legitimately great songs on there, but they really stepped it up with this sophomore effort. Right from the beginning there were two things that defined SOAD: their aggressive social commentary, and their almost vaudeville approach to metal. Lead singer Serj Tankian would range from screaming to singing, high to low, with guitarist Daron Malakian providing strange, yippy back-up vocals. The music had plenty of Eastern influence too, including sitar-like guitar mixed in with the metal crunch. "Chop Suey!," their biggest hit, is the best example of this, also employing strings and piano in what turns into a sneakily lovely song by the end. Of course, the very next song is called "Bounce," in which they sing "Jump! (Pogo pogo pogo pogo pogo pogo) Bounce! (Pogo pogo pogo pogo pogo pogo)," maintaining the borderline ridiculous tone of the record. I've never cared a whole lot about their political and social commentary, but "All research and successful drug policy show that treatment should be increased," from the album-opening "Prison Song," is a lot more fun to shout along to than one might expect. Of course, all of this wouldn't matter if the band didn't know what they were doing, but they're a very talented bunch. Malakian has a tendency to inject himself into the action with his weird vocals, but he's a great guitarist, and the times when he steps forward for a solo or riff are some of the best on the album. Eventually, the competition for top dog took its toll, and the band is currently on indefinite hiatus, but if they never come back, at least they left a strong legacy.

18. Super Furry Animals, Rings Around the World (2001)

What a strange bunch of Welshmen these guys are. They've never had a hit stateside, but somewhere along the way I heard this, their pop opus, and they won me over. But even then it hasn't been until the last few years that I truly started to appreciate Rings Around the World. Lead singer Gruff Rhys has a smooth and oftentimes silly voice, but for these songs about tolerance, misanthropy and of course love, you couldn't ask for a better guide. Throughout the album, the Super Furries employ the same layered harmonizing that people get so excited about when Grizzly Bear does it now, maintaining a utopian feel even amid all the madness of their songs. This band has always sounded to me like what the Beatles might have been doing if they started in this decade or last, with their deft ear for harmonies and pop hooks, and also their clear love of psychedelic drugs. It's appropriate, then, that none other than Paul McCartney should be credited with "celery and carrot" on the song "Receptacle for the Respectable," an insane song that begins as pop and ends in death metal. "No Sympathy" follows a somewhat similar path, though its light beginning contrasts with its cynical lyrics ("Sympathy, sympathy/you want some, don't come to me...you deserve to die!"), before devolving into what can only be described as a speed metal electronica breakdown. And in classic fashion, the very next song after "No Sympathy" is "Juxtaposed With U," a song that implores us to "tolerate all those people that you hate." That kind of humor is just one part of what makes these guys so great, and in this writer's not-so-humble opinion they've never been better than they are here.

17. At the Drive-In, Relationship of Command (2000)

Wow, this band feels like it happened a really long time ago now. After this album they broke up, and lead singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala and lead guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez went on to form the occasionally genius The Mars Volta. Unfortunately for me, by the time someone clued me in it was already too late, so all I can do is listen to the one record I have and wish they'd get back together while Cedric can still sing. The band's Wikipedia page classifies them as 'post-hardcore,' but I don't know what that means; it sounds pretty hard to me. The relentless energy of it makes it hard to believe they could perform these songs live without falling over, but it also helps you ignore that the lyrics you're singing along to don't make one bit of sense. "Neutered is the vastness/hollow vacuum check the oxygen tanks," Bixler-Zivala sings on "One-Armed Scissor;" not exactly what I'd consider relatable. But he sings with such intensity that it all feels like it means something, with the band exploding around him. On "Sleepwalk Capsules," my personal favorite, he shouts "dripping with drool from the nerves of this sentence," and it's almost a meta comment about the force with which he declares it. Iggy Pop shows up to sound like a maniac on both backing vocals and a fairly unsettling opening of "Enfilade" where he places a nonsensical ransom call to some poor girl. I feel like I'm rambling even more than usual, and it's probably because listening to the band requires so much attention that I can't gather my thoughts. Good. Let my incoherence stand as a selling point. It certainly fits the band well.

16. The Futureheads, The Futureheads (2004)

So everyone sings, almost constantly, and the songs are typically less than two and a half minutes long? And I'm supposed to be into this? Well, yeah. The Futureheads took a love of bouncy punk, Gang of Four, and barbershop quartets (ok, I might have made that last one up), threw in some silly humor and a Kate Bush cover for good measure, and turned it into an invigorating collection of imminently singable songs. Covering topics as important as lateness, robots, tired social niceties and the first day at work, co-lead singers Barry Hyde and Ross Millard bounce along multiple part harmonies, with whoever isn't singing lead at any given point joining the rest of the band on backing vocals. This style leads to an exuberance and joy that most bands don't come close to, and helps fill up songs that would be otherwise slight. Ross has an almost completely a cappella turn on "Danger of the Water," buoyed only by doo wop backing work and a keyboard, and it's one of the record's most memorable moments. Other standouts incude "Decent Days & Nights," "Meantime," "He Knows" and the indisputable peak in Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love." It may sound like a backhanded complimented to claim that a band's best song is a cover, but the Futureheads make it so completely their own that anyone who hadn't heard the original wouldn't know any better. One voice starts off with "ah oh oh," and then another joins in with a staggered "oh oh," and it's as if the hounds are singing in unison. It's a shame they've achieved so little over here that they haven't even toured the US for their third album, but sometimes bands slip through the cracks, and that appears to be the case here. Still, I'd put this debut up against almost anyone's.

15. The White Stripes, Elephant (2003)

I know what you're thinking: "This seems early." Maybe you're right. Maybe I should give in to the coronation and rank the White Stripes higher. But maybe, just maybe, they're a little overrated, and this, the top of the bottom half of my list, is the best they deserve. I just said 'they,' as if Meg were really anything more than a time-keeping afterthought in this band. From the moment they broke into the national consciousness, probably even before, this band has always been Jack White and his love of guitar, blues, music history and beautiful simplicity. Don't get me wrong, at the time I was as rabid for this album as anyone, but I found that as time went on there were only a few songs I really wanted to hear over and over. The first four tracks, in particular, stand out. The discussion of Elephant has to start with the excellent lead single and album opener, "Seven Nation Army." Part of the White Stripes blueprint was the stripped-down sound of just a guitar and drums, but on this song White used an effect to make his guitar sound like a bass, leading to one of the most memorable beats of the decade. "I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself," a Burt Bacharach cover, sounds so much like it should be a Stripes song that I'm sure Bacharach himself is glad they did it. And "Ball and Biscuit" is seven-plus minutes of flat out dirty blues, with White telling off some woman who done him wrong, seducing her, and even seeming to tell her where she stands in regards to his mom ("It's quite possible that I'm your third man, girl/But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son"). Each little stanza climaxes in some of White's signature soloing, the guitar getting his back and then some. And make no mistake, the man is an incredible musician.

When going back to figure out which Stripes album to choose, I discovered that while White Blood Cells had three amazing songs, the rest sounded too alike, and White didn't really know how to sing yet, often choosing the lunatic yelp instead. By Elephant he had learned to be a more polished frontman, without losing any of his frenetic energy, and the songs stand out quite a bit more, despite my comments about its longevity. As things stand now, I tend to view the White Stripes as the gateway to the more impressive bands (The Raconteurs, The Dead Weather) and projects (Third Man Records; being an advocate for all types of artists, new and old) that Jack White would later get to. That opinion notwithstanding, it's hard to deny the effect this band and this record in particular had on both the musical community and me at the time.

14. Built to Spill, You in Reverse (2006)

A band that almost certainly would have been on the 90's edition of this list if A.) I had a blog back then and B.) I had listened to them. Built to Spill have actually been around since 1992, so for them to make an album this good in 2006 is fairly impressive. And when you think of Built to Spill, you have to think of Doug Martsch and his guitar playing. The combination of his high, plaintive voice and constant noodling, riffing and soloing are the heart of this band. You in Reverse was actually my official introduction to the band after years of positive word of mouth that somehow didn't inspire me to run out and purchase their entire discography. I think it worked out better this way, though, because not only will I always treasure this one as the first and still best, but it's also allowed me to go back and discover their earlier, also fantastic albums. For this record, the gauntlet is thrown down immediately with the epic "Goin' Against Your Mind," nearly nine minutes of swirling guitar genius and driving beats, including a full 2:04 before a single word is even sung. The next song, "Traces," is a slower song that builds into an epic guitar solo that lifts it above the standard Built to Spill fare, and "Wherever You Go" takes a classic rock riff and makes it its own. "No one sees it's easier to change/No one sleeps and no one stays awake/No one complains" sings Martsch, and while I usually don't know what he's talking about specifically, the music and the words combine to create a sense of melancholy yearning, of desperate happiness, that fits just about any mood you may find yourself in. The album's centerpiece is the ridiculously catchy (and vaguely Dinosaur Jr-ish) "Conventional Wisdom," yet another epic song that closes with the most epic of guitar solos, almost four minutes of inspired playing that never fail to make me forget everything else and just coast along the music. Have I used the word epic enough? That would be the second best word to describe this album, which despite the length of the songs never seems bloated or long. The best word? That would be 'great.'

13. Sleater-Kinney, The Woods (2005)

Not that it's been intentional in any way, but I feel like women have been sorely under-represented on this list so far. Other than Meg White (who I sorta trashed), these three lovely ladies are the first. And yes, I may be a bit biased, since they are one of the only bands I've ever taken a photo with, but they deserve it on musical chops alone. Though they put out other strong albums in this decade--One Beat comes to mind--this is the one I find myself going back to the most. Getting veteran Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev producer Dave Fridmann may not have seemed like an obvious choice, but the sound he has helped construct is among the loudest and most urgent I've ever heard. The mix of Carrie Brownstein and Corin Tucker's distorted guitars and Janet Weiss' heavy drumming often crackles as if the speakers are about to go out, and Tucker's wail rides it all beautifully. "Jumpers" starts at a mellow pace, with Carrie and Corin lamenting the bleakness of some girl's existence, before accelerating into a furious funeral march as the girl works up the courage: "Be still this sad day/Be still this sad year/Hope your last hope/Fear your last fear." On "Modern Girl" they mock the antiquated view of a housewife, while simultaneously sympathizing with her. And with "Entertain," they go after the want-it-now attitude of the media and our society in general with yet another scathing round of intertwining guitars and Weiss' forceful drums. The whole album is laced in feedback, adding to the raw emotion of the songs, culminating in the sexual explosion of "Let's Call it Love." Never ones to shy away from sex (they have an album called Dig Me Out, after all), it's eleven minutes of teasing, pleading, panting, orgasmic wails and the heaviest post-coital dirge ever recorded. I saw them at Coachella 2006, the only time I got to, and they actually transitioned the outro of "Let's Call it Love" into "Entertain," creating an interesting comparison between sex and media. There doesn't seem to be any plans to reunite, like far too many of the bands on this list, but Sleater-Kinney managed something huge while they were around. They showed, with this album especially, that they could rock just as hard as the boys, and better in most cases.

12. Tool, Lateralus (2001)

We're now in a weird part of this for me, because I feel like albums 8-14 are all very close in value, and the order isn't especially important. On the other hand, the phrase 'Top Ten' makes something sound extra special, so I still did a lot of deliberating on this one. In the end, I just couldn't do it. It's true that since it came out in 2001, Lateralus has almost never left my rotation for more than a few months, but that may be a product of being one of only two Tool records this decade. Similar to At The Drive-In, I'm not sure how to describe Tool's music beyond a far too vague genre name like 'metal.' Yeah, it's metal, but it's also more. One thing I can say definitively, though, is that Maynard James Keenan has one of my favorite voices ever. His range is astounding, and whether he's singing smooth and low, or smooth and high, or screaming longer than it seems possible to, his voice is never less than totally gripping. Lateralus is also more personal lyrically than Tool's previous songs about fisting and hypocrite televangelists and California falling into the Pacific Ocean; this time there are songs about mortality ("Parabol/Parabola") and revenge ("The Grudge") and interpersonal relationships ("Schism").

When I say they're more than metal, I just mean that for all the heaviness and bizarre time signatures and screaming, Tool have some of the most beautiful musical passages I've ever heard, sometimes even while all the rest of that is going on. It's a fair statement to say that no one else really plays like Adam Jones plays guitar, or Danny Carey plays drums. Tool has always felt like the perfect storm of the four members (Justin Chancellor is on bass), and not just one member's vision driving the rest. This album also is one of their more focused. 1997's Ænima had unrelated interludes between most songs; here, the only two interludes in the first twelve tracks work beautifully as lead-ins, "Eon Blue Apocalypse" into "The Patient" especially. And it culminates in the three track suite of "Disposition," "Reflection" and "Triad," which, taken as a whole, has to be considered as one of Tool's finest moments. In fact, despite what I said at the beginning of this (long) paragraph, if this had been the sole output of the band for this decade, or just one of many, I think it still would have been ranked this high.

11. Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Show Your Bones (2006)

Karen O, Nick Zinner and Brian Chase are the winners of the dreaded 11-spot, but of course that means I'm saying there were only ten albums I liked more this decade, so really, it's not so dreaded after all. More than their self-titled debut EP, or the full-length Fever to Tell, or the awesome Is Is EP that followed it, Show Your Bones is the Yeah Yeah Yeahs record I find myself longing for, and believe me, I wouldn't have believed that if you told me back when it came out. I was such a fan of the fast-paced, dirty guitar rock of their early years that initially this felt like they were trying too hard to capitalize on the success of "Maps." But then I got down off my shoebox, flushed the bullshit from my ears and actually listened to it. What I discovered was not a band trying to "sell out" by copying their biggest hit, but rather a band that had grown into more than its initial aspirations. The acoustic guitars that had sounded so jarring the first time I heard "Gold Lion" now felt like the only way to go, and the somewhat hip-hop leanings of "Phenomena" that turned me off initially now had me bouncing my head to the beat. Zinner may not have been playing quite as many crazy, shrill and scratchy notes, but his virtuosity still shone through. Chase's drumming was as perfect as ever, maybe better. And of course, the signature aspect of the band, Karen O's voice, sounded the best it ever had. With pipes designed to shriek, swoon, yell and laugh, O's personality drives the album, going from angry little girl to joyous woman and vice versa. The lullaby via Sonic Youth of "Dudley" is pretty and sad, and yet hopeful, and "Way Out" is all raging acoustic guitars and hormones. Then there's "Cheated Hearts," which is, to quote Jack Black from the number 20 entry on this list, "a fucking brilliant song." When she sings "Sometimes I think I'm bigger than the sound," she's right and wrong at the same time. Karen O may be the most obviously outstanding part of this band, but on this record all the parts come together in a way they hadn't matched before (or since). From beginning to end, Show Your Bones explores the limits of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' sound, with nary a misstep or wasted song. And when it comes to how great this record is, just like Karen says in the final song, "Turn Into," I know what I know.

Coming tomorrow (if I survive tonight): my Top Ten of the decade. Happy New Year's, everybody!

This Mystic Decade

2009-12-30T01:44:00.000-08:00

That's right, in a burst of horrifying unoriginality I have decided to do what every other journalist/magazine/online publication/blogger/asshole has already done. Namely, attempt to organize my thoughts long enough to arbitrarily rank a bunch of albums I bought (yes, bought, you dirty music pirates) years ago. But what can I say? Like the music geeks above, I'm a sucker for lists. So I've decided to select my 28 favorite records from this decade. Why 28? Because that's how old I am as I write this, and it worked out as the best cutoff I could manage without going completely insane. My logic is unassailable! There are, however, a few rules to make it less predictable and more inclusive:

A. 2009 is ineligible. Not just because I don't wanna step on my own toes before I get a chance to write a best of list for this year, but because I'm afraid to overvalue the things I love so much currently. Sometimes you need to step back, and I haven't had enough time yet for that. Sorry, 2009, but I'll gladly revise this list later.

B. No artist can appear twice. This is partially because I want everyone to feel like they're a winner, but really, would you want to read my thoughts on four Queens of the Stone Age or three Wilco albums within the same entry? So, for instance, if you happen to see a Radiohead effort on here that isn't Kid A, don't hold your breath waiting for it to show up, because it won't. This forces me to make really hard decisions about which ones I like the best. There may be tears. From you.

C. Most important rule: this is about what I love to listen to, not what is the most artistically relevant or interesting or challenging or whatever. It's my list, and if I see fit to include Monster Magnet or anything else that may not be a popular choice, it's because it stood out as something that I listened to countless times this decade without ever losing that great feeling that the best music gives you. (SPOILER ALERT: There will be no Monster Magnet on this list, tempted though I may be. I just wanted to see if I could make anyone's head explode. Everyone still good? Damn.)

With that in mind, let's take a trip back to as far as the once-feared Year 2000, or as recent as the last few weeks when I've been listening to all this stuff to figure it out!

28. Jimmy Page and The Black Crowes, Live at the Greek (2000)

Let's start it right off with a little bit of an odd one. I know, I know; it's a live album! But in truth it'd probably be higher if it weren't, based purely on how much I've listened to it. Led Zeppelin was long gone by the time I started getting into music, with no real hope of a reunion (that one-off show was still far in the future). I often thought about how great it would be if they did play together again, and then this happened. The Crowes were the perfect choice as Page's collaborators, having been one of the only bands faithfully putting out classic rock records all through the 90s. Lead singer Chris Robinson may not be Robert Plant, but he does well enough on his own singing classics like "Whole Lotta Love," "What Is and What Should Never Be" and "Ten Years Gone," plus more hidden gems like "Out on the Tiles" and "Sick Again." Throw in some incredible Yardbirds, B.B. King and (early, bluesier) Fleetwood Mac covers, and you have quite an impressive rock show, easily one of the best live albums I've ever heard. Page's guitar sounds great, and the Crowes clearly love the songs. A treat for all of us who had the misfortune of being born too late to see the original.

27. Against Me!, New Wave (2007)

Full disclosure: I hated this band the first couple times I heard it. Their older stuff is a grating mix of hardcore and singer-songwriter whining (to my ears, anyway) that I just couldn't get into. But then they "sold out," and their music took a crazy leap forward in quality. Now it was like a mix of rock, punk, catchy choruses and hooks, and early 90s alternative. That last wasn't a shock, considering Butch Vig was brought in to produce this time, but what we ended up with were ten songs that get into your head and won't go away, but in that fun kind of way. Lead singer Tom Gabel has one of those voices, a bit like Fugazi's Ian MacKaye, but if you like it you love it, and when he wails, I wail right along with him. Album closer "The Ocean" may be the best song, riding a rhythm section like waves to an explosive crescendo, but the most memorable track is probably the unabashedly sentimental and sad "Born on the FM Waves of the Heart," a duet with Tegan Quinn (of Tegan & Sara) that is all singalongy goodness. New Wave reminded me that while all those pop-punk bands on the radio may be crap, there's something just beyond what they're aspiring to that is pure music gold.

26. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! (2008)

The first of two members of this list that produce lyrics equal or superior to the music, Nick Cave weaves crazy tales all through the American Gothic sound of this album. Layered with organ, strings and lots of percussion, in addition to an impressive nucleus of bass, drum and guitar, the listener sometimes feels as if they're on some crazy western caravan, not unlike the title character in standout track "Albert Goes West." Cave sings in an almost conversational carnival barker's tone, which once caused my father to date himself by asking if it was 'rap rock,' but he can switch to smooth crooner when the mood calls for it. While I may not be able to parse all of the lyrics for meaning, I never get tired of the stories he wants to tell, culminating in the epic "More News From Nowhere." As we follow the narrator through a series of encounters with strange women, and the allusions (some obvious, some more opaque) to Homer's The Odyssey pile up, it's hard not to agree with Cave's assertion that "it's gettin' strange in here." Not that I want to leave, so I start the whole thing over, letting the music wash over me again.

25. Bloc Party, Silent Alarm (2005)

This decade saw a rise in popularity and proliferation of dancey, jangly-guitared bands, but this record is probably my favorite of the bunch. From the opening siren-like guitars and propulsive, almost machine gun drums, Bloc Party infused their debut with an irresistible energy and emotion. Singer Kele Okereke has a very expressive voice, capable of going low but usually riding the higher notes. He's also one of the few imports that doesn't lose his British accent when singing, adding a distinct personality to the songs. Breakout hit "Banquet" is one of the best and catchiest songs this decade, and if you can get the chorus or Okereke's yelp of "Cuz I'm on fire!" out of your head, you're a stronger person than I. The band's secret weapon, however, is drummer Matt Tong. Though he went in a more conventional direction with their two subsequent releases, his energetic, interesting and precise drumming carries the day on Silent Alarm. I'm probably wildly overrating this compared to what others would say, but it's a record that always makes me want to dance, and there's something to be said for 13 out of 14 songs being this strong.

24. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Howl (2005)

The band my brother and I once described as "The Jesus and Mary Chain, but good," Black Rebel Motorcycle Club had already been around a few years before Howl, their third album, came out, but it isn't exactly what I'd call representative of their previous work. Whereas before they'd had a dark, droney and heavy quality to even their cheeriest songs, this album starts off with hand claps and a group chorus of "Time won't save our souls." Co-lead singers Peter Hayes and Robert Levon Been apparently spent a lot of time reading poets like Ginsburg and reflecting, and while that may sound somewhat pretentious, musically it paid off rather well. The album has a very classic, gospel, folk, blues and even country vibe that exposed new strengths of the band, and it paid off beautifully on the only slightly less worthy follow-up, Baby 81, when they merged the two sounds. There are a few songs that are only Hayes and a guitar that hurt the momentum, but ultimately they serve as breathers between the acoustic stomp and harmonica flexing of "Ain't No Easy Way" and the melancholy beauty of the piano-driven "Promise." Maybe it's not as important as they evidently thought it was when they wrote it, but with Howl BRMC left an indelible impression on this listener.

23. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Plastic Fang (2002)

Even if the music on this record were not very good, there's something so inherently amusing about a semi-concept album about old horror movies, with song titles like "Killer Wolf," "Down in the Beast" and "The Midnight Creep," that I'd find pretext to talk about it anyway. Luckily, the music rocks, so the silly lyrics about gypsy ladies and pitchfork-bearing villagers are merely a bonus. Blues Explosion albums had never really worked for me before, mostly because they were too all-over-the-place, but from start to finish this one is straight dirty rock, with plenty of boogie beats, guitar solos and grunting from Spencer. The band wears its love of the Rolling Stones on its collective sleeve, and it can feel a bit derivative, but what the hell isn't? Russell Simins' drums provide the perfect backdrop for Spencer and Judah Bauer's interweaving guitar lines, and more than one track starts off sounding like a party before bursting into song. "Mean Heart" and "Point of View" close it out with arguably the two best songs, and when Spencer commands us to "tango!" on the former and proclaims "I wanna holler but the bar's too small!" on the latter, you can't help but smile and shake your hips. Just like he planned it.

22. Supergrass, Diamond Hoo Ha (2008)

This may be the silliest ranking on here, since this album could easily slip or climb as the years go on. It was my third favorite from last year, but in a way including the most recent effort from Gaz Coombes, Mick Quinn, Danny Goffey and Rob Coombes is more of a career recognition. I've loved this band for a long time now, and I've always thought Gaz had one of the best voices in rock. For Diamond Hoo Ha, Supergrass went in a glam direction, pulling hard from Bowie and other 70s acts. The sound fits them wonderfully. A near perfect opening troika of "Diamond Hoo Ha Man," "Bad Blood" and "Rebel In You" pulls the listener in with Gaz's howls and guitars, and brother Rob's excellent key work. And the aggressive silliness of "Whiskey and Green Tea," with its background "ba da bum, ba da bum" vocals, tales of karate dogs and middle-age schoolgirls and completely badass saxophone solo, never stops being fun. It's going to be a recurring theme, but any album that I can genuinely love beginning to end goes up in my estimation, since it's a relatively rare thing. That's why I think this one will eventually climb up even higher than some of what will follow. Plus, ESPN used the riff from "Diamond Hoo Ha Man" on every promo for the World Series of Poker this year, and I still love it. That says a lot.

21. Kings of Leon, Because of the Times (2007)

Kings of Leon make me sad. They started as a rough-sounding southern rock outfit, but then their second album showed some new chops beyond that gimmick, and Because of the Times redefined them almost entirely. By this time lead singer Caleb Followill had learned how to actually sing, and the band had honed their songwriting skills to morph that classic rock sound into something new and a bit unique. I should have known that they sounded too polished here and would abandon their former fire almost entirely with their next one, but I was too busy loving this record. So let's just pretend like Only By the Night never happened and talk about when they were good. Starting off with a seven minute song called "Knocked Up," Times announced immediately that this was a new Kings of Leon we were hearing. Matthew Followill's lead guitar sounds like he's been listening to a lot of U2, but it goes well with the crazy sexual energy that permeates much of the album. "Charmer" has Caleb's lunatic shriek at the beginning of almost every line, and "McFearless" has a frantic, stuttering drum beat unlike any I've heard before. "My Party" is KoL's best Franz Ferdinand impression, and yes, that's a very good thing. "True Love Way" has some of the prettiest guitar on this list, with Caleb warbling about two people being free, happy and alone, while "oh oh oh, oh oh oh" rings out in the background. A great song, and Times' high point. The album hits a bit of a speed bump about ten songs in, but it rallies with closer "Arizona," a ruminative track that fades out with more pretty guitar. I hold out hope, however slim, that Kings of Leon will come back to this level, but for now this is how I choose to remember them, as a band at the height of its powers.

Whew, are you still here? Since this is obviously going to be a very long ordeal, we'll stop here for now. Coming tomorrow or the next day: Albums 20-11. I know you're excited.

Metallica at the Honda Center (née The Pond), 12/10/09

2009-12-29T00:13:00.000-08:00

I have few concert-going regrets in my life. To name a handful: seeing 311 instead of Nine Inch Nails back in '99 (hey, I was young); missing my only chance to see the original Black Sabbath lineup because my friend Jeff had the bad luck to get some flaming foam finger in his eye; and my friend's mom accidentally throwing away his ticket to see the Ramones on what we thought was their final tour, back before either of us were old enough to drive (I still have my unused ticket, sigh). Though I was fortunate enough to correct the last one by catching them at Lollapalooza '97, that show was also the source of perhaps my biggest regret. That would be basically falling asleep during Metallica's headlining set.

Now, don't think my snoozing was some sort of review of the show they put on that night. Quite to the contrary; from what I can remember they were very strong. It's just that I was a fat sixteen year old kid who wasn't yet used to the kind of grind an all-day festival entailed. I'm sure the second-hand high from the abundance of pot smoke didn't help my alertness either, but whatever the reason, by the time Soundgarden and then Metallica got their turns I was wiped. And it's plagued me for years because both bands have been essentially done since then, with Soundgarden breaking up and Metallica sinking into irrelevancy with the truly, depressingly awful St. Anger. But last year Metallica came back with their best album in twenty years, the riff-fest of Death Magnetic, and a couple weeks ago (and twelve years later), I got to finally experience one of the best metal bands of all time.

Due to the amazing generosity of a friend, my girlfriend Nikki and I got to enjoy the concert from one of the boxes at the Pond...er, Honda Center, complete with free drinks and food (thanks, Dave!). Let me tell you, I like standing on the floor in front of the band as much as almost anyone, but I'd go for this setup just about anytime. The stage was placed in the middle of the floor, with eight microphones positioned around the edges so lead singer James Hetfield could roam and sing to every section of the arena at diffferent points of the set. They started with "That Was Just Your Life," the solid opener for Death Magnetic, which I have to admit was met with a slightly tepid response. Though there were plenty of younger fans, there were quite a few Metallica veterans who obviously weren't especially familiar with the new stuff. "The End of the Line," another new song, seemed to rope them in a bit more, but like the wily old bastards they are, the band switched into classic mode with a punishing rendition of "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The uptick in energy from the crowd was palpable, and they sang along maniacally, with Hetfield happy to let them. Next was the somewhat random (but totally awesome) "The Shortest Straw" from ...and Justice For All, and then "Fade to Black."

Throughout the night they did that, bouncing back and forth between the new material and old, all while avoiding anything from the time between Metallica (the "black album") and Death Magnetic, which actually made me a little sad. I know it's not a popular period, but I actually enjoy the Load and Re-Load albums; they were my gateway into appreciating Metallica, and they're far more diverse musically than anything else they've ever done. I'd certainly trade "Nothing Else Matters" and "Sad But True" for "Ain't My Bitch," "Bleeding Me" or even "Fuel." But I was very happy with what I got, which was all but one of my favorites from Magnetic, classics like "One," "Master of Puppets" and "Seek & Destroy," and even deep cuts like the previously mentioned "The Shortest Straw" and the killer "Trapped Under Ice." And if they played the recorded versions of intros to some songs so they could catch their breaths, or drummer Lars Ulrich messed up ever so slightly a couple times due to over-exuberance, so what? The first Metallica show that will actually live on in my memory more than compensated for those things with a relentless force and passion I'm glad I finally got to see.

Set List: That Was Just Your Life / The End of the Line / For Whom the Bell Tolls / The Shortest Straw / Fade to Black / Broken, Beat and Scarred / Cyanide / Sad But True / One / The Judas Kiss / Kirk Hammett guitar solo --> The Day That Never Comes / Master of Puppets / Battery / Kirk Hammett guitar solo --> Nothing Else Matters / Enter Sandman

Encore: Too Late, Too Late (Motörhead cover) / Trapped Under Ice / Seek & Destroy

Them Crooked Vultures at the Wiltern, 11/17/09

2009-12-15T20:13:00.000-08:00

I'm way behind on this, but before I start writing my long and self-indulgent end of year and decade lists in the next couple of weeks, I have to say something about the band that I've been blabbing excitedly about in this space for months now. Thoughts on this show and Them Crooked Vultures' debut album coming right up...

As I've said before, this band is basically what you would come up with if you were throwing around an outlandish concept for the perfect "Brian Hatfield Band," except they actually got together and made some great damn music. I've been anxious to hear them and see them play since they were announced, so when this show went on sale I was online, refreshing my browser like a maniac. The experience of the show was a little different than usual, since it happened on the same day the record was released, so while there were plenty of people in the crowd who had tracked Them Crooked Vultures down early, or just listened to it incessantly on their YouTube channel (guilty on both counts), most of the crowd was hearing them for the first time. This led to more than a couple strange looks for me and my friends, as we were cheering when almost every song started. Hey, we just love us some rocking!

And rocking there was. They opened with album opener "No One Loves Me & Neither Do I," a song that starts with a catchy—if somewhat conventional—verse-chorus-verse classic rock feel, before picking up steam and exploding into a dirty, vicious stomp for the last two-plus minutes. When it happened live, the lights behind the band flashed bright (see the photo at top), and the crowd immediately started freaking out. Such a perfect start, and a genuinely thrilling moment to share with the thousands in the Wiltern. From there they jumped directly into "Dead End Friends," building off the momentum with another banger. "I don't know what I'm headed for," Josh Homme sang, and while the crowd might have related a few minutes before, by now they had a pretty good idea.

Of course, beyond just the ferocity and virtuosity of the music, we were all being treated to something else: only the second band John Paul Jones has ever been in (after those Led Zeppelin guys). Homme, drummer Dave Grohl and second guitarist Alain Johannes all treated him with a charming mix of comradery and reverence throughout the set, while he clearly enjoyed himself, especially with a quick bass solo during the fourth song, "Scumbag Blues." The mandolin was brought out for non-album track "Highway One," and then a keytar appeared during the goofy drug trip "Interlude With Ludes." Overall the band had great chemistry, with Homme and Jones often congregating in front of Grohl's kit to jam it out. And special notice should be given to Johannes, a long-time Homme collaborator and Them Crooked Vultures' secret weapon. He handled a lot of lead and rhythm guitar, plus keyboards, backing vocals, and assorted other duties. Though not the big name that the others are, he is very much on their level as a musician.

By the end the band made it through the entire album, coming back out for what Homme claimed was their first encore ever to play the jam-session-in-waiting "Warsaw or the First Breath You Take After You Give Up," which went on for close to ten minutes. Then they waved and walked off, thus ending one of the best rock shows of my year.

As for the album, it should come as no surprise by now that I'm a huge fan. I was talking recently with a friend about my affinity for albums, despite their impending obsolescence, but even I had to admit that it's the rare album that's good from beginning to end. Well, despite some nitpicks here and there, Them Crooked Vultures is one of those. In addition to the songs I've already mentioned, first single "New Fang" is inspired boogie rock featuring one of Homme's best vocal performances; "Reptiles" applies liberal doses of acoustic guitar to one of the most Zeppelin-y tracks; and the evil disco of "Gunman" brings to mind what happens when a Crooked Vulture has sex with Le Tigre (yes, the whole band), to ominously danceable effect.

But I've been talking too long, so I'll hand the floor over to my friend and frequent commenter, Tom Solmer:

I have not often found myself thinking, wow this is really great.
It is a great performance, the tone and attitude of the whole thing being perfect. I mean, it's tough to think of any other album that so perfectly captures the spirit and attitude of rock music as it should be; it's a sound that is completely modern, completely incorporates the past half-century of rock music, and at the same time has a degree of timelessness. It's not like this is the sound of rock music only now; it pretty much embodies what rock should sound like, anywhere and everywhere.

I couldn't have said it any better.

Set List: No One Loves Me & Neither Do I / Dead End Friends / Mind Eraser, No Chaser / Scumbag Blues / Elephants / Highway One / New Fang / Reptiles / Bandoliers / Gunman / Interlude with Ludes / Caligulove / Spinning in Daffodils

Encore: Warsaw or the First Breath You Take After You Give Up

Crazy Like a Fox

2009-12-07T23:23:00.000-08:00

Last week, after many good intentions and empty proclamations, it finally happened. Yes, I went back to a movie theater and paid to see a film somewhere other than the comfort of my own home for the first time in over a year. I have to say, I missed it more than I thought. It was the middle of a Monday, so it wasn't like I had to deal with any protracted search for a seat, but even the thrill of deciding where best to take it all in came rushing back in a way I hadn't expected. I frequently argue that movies are too fleeting, character and story-wise, to be worth the effort, but I had forgotten something very important: when it is worth it, it's the only way to go.

Anyway, the movie I saw, in case you hadn't figured it out by now, was Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox, and I wanted to say a few things about it. If you haven't seen it and intend to, stop here. Seriously, last chance to remain untainted. I warned you... Mr. Fox is Keyser Soze! Ok, not really. But he is very entertaining.

The film is based on a Roald Dahl novel I never read, but with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and The Witches to his credit, I had a good idea of what I was in for. The original apparently revolves around Mr. Fox and his efforts to steal from evil farmers Boggis, Bunce and Bean, and their attempts in turn to catch and kill him and his family. The movie keeps that as its basic idea, but Anderson and his writing partner Noah Baumbach have created a larger community that includes badger lawyers, squirrel real estate agents, opossum handymen and beaver bullies, and made Fox's assault on the farmers' stashes more of a "one last job" ego trip. Once the farmers, led by Bean, retaliate, all of the animals we've met are affected and eventually have to band together.

If this were just a standard animation job, it probably wouldn't be nearly as charming, but the stop-motion they use is quite impressive, as are the detailed puppets. There are several scenes of the animals dancing victoriously over a successful raid, and just the sight of them all in a wide shot, bouncing around, was enough to make me laugh every time. They're all civilized and well spoken, but when they eat it's like the Tasmanian devil from Looney Tunes, all snarls and flying food. In one scene, when Fox and his lawyer, Badger, disagree about something, they throw up their arms menacingly and growl while circling each other before finally settling down. Little touches like those give the film a lot of its personality.

Of course, without quality voice-acting, none of this would matter very much, but luckily Anderson has assembled an excellent cast. George Clooney is perfect as the sly but arrogant Mr. Fox, and Michael Gambon oozes villainy as Bean. Other Anderson regulars Bill Murray (Badger), Jason Schwartzman (Fox's son, Ash), Owen Wilson (Coach Skip) and Willem Dafoe (Rat) all show up, as does former Pulp lead singer Jarvis Cocker, of all people (yes, he does get to sing). And even though it's animated the movie has Anderson's fingerprints all over it, employing his love of dry, deadpan humor, title screens, and cutaway shots showing the entire community the animals have made for themselves while on the run.

I'm tempted to just recount all the parts that I found touching, or funny, or innovative, but I'll let you discover that for yourselves. But take it from someone who's developed an extremely skeptical eye when it comes to movies recently: this is a world you want to visit, even if only for an hour and a half.

Dinosaur Jr at House of Blues Sunset Strip, 11/5/09

2009-11-19T09:40:00.000-08:00

Band reunions are a tricky business. Oftentimes they get back together for financial reasons and noticeably lack any semblance of whatever made them great. Those of us who missed them the first time around may enjoy it anyway, but it's just not the same. On the other hand, sometimes it's Dinosaur Jr.

My only real exposure to Dinosaur Jr was their 90's semi-hit "Feel the Pain," memorable both for being a killer song and for its Spike Jonze-directed video. I saw them at my first ever concert, KROQ's Almost Acoustic Christmas in 1994, and the only things I remember clearly are how tall lead singer J Mascis was, and how impressively loud they were. By then Mascis was already without his two original bandmates, Lou Barlow and Murph, and he eventually retired the brand. But a few years ago the original lineup started playing together again, releasing the first reunion album with 2007's Beyond. In June of this year they came back again with Farm, an incredible display of guitar rock that you'll definitely see mentioned here on year-end best-of lists. Reuniting has put a creative charge into these guys, after initially just playing the old material. Much to their fans' delight, they've eschewed the victory lap that bands like the Pixies have gone for and put out some of the best material of their career.

Lucky me, after seeing their reunion tour in 2005, I heard Farm at a friend's house right after it came out and haven't looked back. I was looking forward to the show at the House of Blues more than any show in recent memory, and it was as great as I'd hoped for. After running into my fellow Brothers of the Green Polo, I positioned myself down near the stage. They opened with a slew of older songs that I didn't know, but the sheer force of their sound was fantastic anyway. Mascis has a plaintive, almost craggly voice, but it matches the emotion of his endless array of riffs, and Barlow and Murph form a powerful rhythm section for his guitar to coast along. Barlow in particular seems indefatigable, rocking out and headbanging the entire set even after his other band, Lou Barlow and the Missingmen, had opened. A few songs in they played "Imagination Blind," a Barlow sung tune from Farm built more around the bass than guitar, and then "Plans," another new song. The highlights of the show were "Pieces," on my short list for song of the year, and a surprise rendition of "Feel the Pain." The version of Dinosaur Jr that did that song was not the same as the one that played the other night, and I assumed they would only play songs that the three of them wrote together, but play it they did, and it was more heavy and rocked out than normal.

Mascis has the look and stature of a mix between Edgar Winter and Frankenstein's monster, and he just stands there and plays without any fanfare or flash. In fact, the whole band is one of the least interactive I've ever seen, but the music, and the constant solos, more than make up for it. Usually constant wailing is a bad thing, but Mascis finds a way to make it all cohesive and interesting. During the final song of the main set, "I Don't Wanna Go There," there were three different solos, but the song was so strong already, and his guitar playing so impressive, that the crowd never wanted it to end. And whatever else your opinion of the band may be, he is without doubt one of the best guitarists out there. By the time it was all over, my ears were feeling the pain of everyone, but my heart was happy.

The next night, I saw the aforementioned Pixies play their album Doolittle in its entirety at the Hollywood Palladium, and it really threw the difference between the two bands into stark relief. Black Francis and company played really well, and it was neat to see them play an album all the way through, but a couple things happened. First, when they came back out for their second encore they started doing songs from other albums, which was fun, but Black's vocals sounded strained on "UMASS" and they decided to play "Where Is My Mind?" for the eleventy-billionth time. And the second was my realization that they were creatively frozen, and while the songs were in theory timeless, Frank's voice would continue to age and crumble around them, instead of finding something new to say. I think I'd rather have them put out to pasture than stagnate into a greatest hits band. There's still time, but for now it made me appreciate Dinosaur Jr even more. You can never have enough good, new music.

Better To Be Lucky Than Good

2009-11-11T16:34:00.000-08:00

Take a second to look at all that money. Those are all hundred dollar bills, and that guy is only twenty-one. All he had to do was play poker for hours and hours and days and days, and outlast 6,493 other players. Oh, and get ridiculously lucky over and over again at the final table.

Joe Cada started the final table 5th in chips with just over 13 million, but at one point he had been whittled down to around 2.5 million, or roughly 1% of the total chips at the table. But he slowly climbed back up before a big hand against Jeff Shulman, the other short stack at the table. Cada had pocket 3's against Shulman's J's, but a 3 came on the flop to give Cada three of a kind and cripple Shulman, who eventually went out in 5th place. Later, again the short stack but this time with only three players left, Cada bet all his chips with 2's against Antoine Saout's Q's. Saout, who had played better than anyone at the final table up to that point, going from being the second short stack with 9 million in chips to being the leader three-handed with 90 million, was in a great position to eliminate Cada and go on to heads-up play with a dominant chip lead. But Cada's luck just kept up, and a 2 hit on the flop for another miracle set, and he doubled up again.

Just a few short hands later, Saout went all-in with 8's against Cada's A-K, needing to avoid six cards to swap places and regain the lead. Naturally, a K hit on the river, sending Cada and his supporters into a frenzy and leaving Saout in shock. Two nights later, Cada beat Darvin Moon in an exciting heads-up match to complete his incredible comeback, win $8,546,435, and also set the record for youngest Main Event champion. Don't get me wrong, the kid is a great player, but there were so many times when statistically he should have lost that you can't fault me for calling him lucky. On the plus side, he seems like a genuinely nice guy, and someone who will embrace the role of poker spokesman for the next year or so until someone takes his place. Or maybe he'll just do the really impossible and win it again.

There were a lot of exciting hands that I haven't recounted here, and overall this final table was about as entertaining as you could hope for. As much as I was disappointed that none of the pros I was pulling for (Shulman, Phil Ivey, James Akenhead) won the thing, poker isn't like other sports where the best team usually wins or there are clear mistakes and poor performances that you can point to. If a guy makes it this far, he must be playing really well and getting good cards, and to finish in the top nine is fairly incredible. I'm a little glad it's over too, since the more I watch and absorb the lingo and strategies and percentages, the more I start thinking I can do this. And then I remember that my heart races anytime I raise the pot pre-flop, and then I think that perhaps "general critic guy with random blog" suits my temperament better.

The Night Marchers at Alex's Bar, 10/30/09

2009-11-09T22:10:00.000-08:00

"Let all the blogs say that tonight was a success!" - Speedo

Done and done.

There are some things that are just true about me. I love gummi bears; I kick ass at the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game; I watch a lot of television; and I wear plaid, just to name a handful. And another one is: when Speedo talks, I listen. Who is Speedo, you ask? Well, in addition to being the guy with the guitar and the microphone in the center of that picture up there, he's also one of my musical heroes. Based in San Diego, his bands have been making me happy since 1995. Rocket From The Crypt's Scream, Dracula, Scream! was one of the first albums outside the mainstream that I ever truly cared about (though credit goes to my friend Spencer for finding it), and I still listen to it frequently to this day. He was also in Pitchfork, Drive Like Jehu and Hot Snakes, though in those bands he was primarily the lead guitarist, thereby denying anyone who listened to their records or went to their shows his inimitable charm and good cheer. Everything shut down in 2005, memorably ending with Rocket From The Crypt's farewell Halloween show (which I went to, naturally).

Then after a couple years of quiet, Speedo reemerged with The Night Marchers, a band that sounded like Hot Snakes and Rocket From The Crypt had a baby. They're not his best work, but my concert-going life is better with him in it, and honestly, I love those other two bands so much it would be hard for anything to compare. And, as a bonus, they've played Alex's in Long Beach three times already, so I can see one of my heroes cheap and local!

Now, based on those band names and the RFTC finale being on Halloween, it isn't hard to imagine that Speedo and Co. are fond of October 31, so obviously I felt it would be appropriate to dress up for a show the night before. (As you can see by the picture of my buddy Billy Mays and I. It's the strangest thing: since he died, he's started talking like some bizarre cross between The Penguin and Edward G. Robinson.) Imagine my surprise and disappointment when the band came out wearing normal clothes. Speedo apologized for the lack of dressing up, saying that the artifice of their music would have to serve as their costumes. Whatever, man; do you have any idea how fucking hot it was in that executioner's robe? They quickly made up for it by plowing into "Closed For Inventory," the opener from their one and only record, See You In Magic. Immediately following was "In Dead Sleep (I Snore Zzzz)," the second track, as Speedo has a fondness for playing songs in little chunks from albums. It makes a lot of sense, playing off of the way we all know the songs, often remembering our favorites in groups, expecting to hear one after the other.

Throughout the show, the rest of the band (Gar Wood on guitar, Jason Kourkounis on drums and Tommy Kitsos on bass) just went about their business, which is a shame because I once saw Gar, who is left-handed, take Speedo's guitar when his own wasn't working and play it backwards during "Scene Report" and make it sound right. I don't play guitar, but Billy Mays told me that would be pretty difficult, and I believe him (though he is a master pitchman). But if the guys behind him mostly just let their music do the talking, Speedo certainly made up for it, teasing the audience, spraying beer, and demanding that we all clap with our thumbnails. He also started a dialogue with some guy who had been filming the entire set with his digital camera from right in front, and after the dude suggested that Speedo order a Caguama, Speedo pretended to have no idea what that meant, accusing the guy of trying to get him beat up by tricking him into saying a dirty Spanish word.

It was all a little strange and almost antagonistic, but none of it seemed to affect the performance. While they didn't play first single "Whose Lady R U?" they did play just about every other song on the album I'd want to hear, plus "Scene Report," a great track that has a bit of an homage to "Surfin' Bird" in it, and two newer songs, one of which they called "Tropical Depression," and another that I've heard once before and I'll call "Money" for lack of a proper title; it's really damn good is the main point. And regardless of what or how long they played, it's always great to be witness to their aural assault, and Speedo's shenanigans. It remains a shame that such an interesting and fun guitarist and songwriter is relegated to the margins of the music scene, but for those of us who know it's always a treat.

Set List: Closed For Inventory / In Dead Sleep (I Snore Zzzz) / Jump in the Fire / I Wanna Deadbeat You / You've Got Nerve / Branded / Bad Bloods / Total Bloodbath / Tropical Depression (new song) / Scene Report / Money (new song)

Update: Ok, so I'm an idiot and that song I said was new has been around for a while, so let's just call it a non-album track. Oh, and I still don't know what it's called, and it still kicks ass.